


A Living Secret

by viridianeye



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto (Anime) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kakasaku in the past, Madasaku - Freeform, Multi, POV Haruno Sakura, POV Third Person, POV Uchiha Sarada, Some Sasusaku But Not Really At All
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viridianeye/pseuds/viridianeye
Summary: Sakura's well-hidden secret she has kept for twelve years is discovered when Sarada decides to try out the 23andme (local Konoha version) trend and investigate her true parentage.Thank you all again for your supportive comments and kudos.  You keep me afloat.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Madara, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 18
Kudos: 101





	1. results

Sarada snatched the small brown package from the mailbox and ran into the house with it, excitement glittering in her dark eyes. She already knew that it would be the results that she expected but at least she could brag _officially_ to everyone about her parentage. Everyone she knew lately, even the instructors, had been doing these ancestry DNA tests. Anyone who was lagging behind on the trend and hadn’t done one was half-jokingly accused of having a secretly different parent than they claimed, and after getting sick of the accusations that her father was somehow not Sasuke Uchiha, she had caved and bought a test.

She snuck past the kitchen where Sakura was chopping something, tiptoeing up the stairs with her prize tucked against her chest. She didn’t want her seeing it. She knew it would hurt her mother to know that she had done this test, and as she loved her mother, she would not let her find out.

Sarada sat down on her bed, her door slamming behind her; she tossed aside her messenger bag. Mercilessly she shook the brown package after tearing open the top. The results fell out with her test kit that she had sent in. They had kept the hair samples she had sent in, sending back only the empty kit and the paper with her results. She recalled that it had been somewhat difficult to get any of Sasuke’s hair to send in alongside hers and her mother’s; he hadn’t lived with them for years. She’d had to dig in the forgotten depths of her mom’s closet until she found a forgotten headband of his that thankfully had a couple of strands she could use.

She pushed those aside and picked up what interested her, which was the piece of paper that told her the results.

_Congratulations, we have run the test results and Haruno Sakura is your mother!_

Sarada rolled her eyes. That result was no surprise. Her eyes drew down to the rest of the test results.

_Uchiha Sasuke is not your father!_

She stared in disbelief, the paper clutched in her fingers. She set the test kit back down with slightly shaking hands, adjusting the crimson glasses on her nose. _But… how? I have the natural-born Sharingan of the Uchiha clan, so my father must be an Uchiha - not to mention I also have their black hair. How could this be? Sasuke is the only Uchiha that lives and breathes._

“It must be wrong,” Sarada whispered aloud, and her neck jerked as she saw her mother standing in the doorway, eyes wide at the test kit in her hands.

“Mother,” she greeted, wanting to shove the evidence of the test under a pillow, but her mother’s emerald eyes were already seeing it, recognizing it. She watched her mother’s expression tighten; her eyes closed for a moment. Stepping into the room, she quietly closed the door behind her. “Sarada,” she began, her voice just above a whisper, “please go burn those results. And do _not…_ ” Her eyes opened, filled with green fire. “Do _not_ tell anyone what they are.”

“Who is my---”

Sakura shook her head, pressing her gloved finger against her daughter’s mouth. “I’ll… We can talk about this, but not now.” She glanced backward, sweat on her brow. “I promise. Just please, please do what I ask.”

Sarada swallowed, finishing putting the test kit back in the brown package and then hiding it in her shirt as she got to her feet. 

Sakura left the room quietly, shutting the door behind her; Sarada watched her go, eyes wide. Her mother’s reaction to the test kit told her with certainty that the test results were correct about Sasuke not being her father.

_Who is my father?_

Sakura did not bother walking quietly into the lab, ferocity prepared in her core to convince whomever was doing these asinine DNA tests to keep their mouths shut about the results. Her secret _absolutely could not spread,_ and though it wouldn’t be hard for her to deny any rumors, she needed to be certain that she would only have to have the conversation about her daughter’s real father with her daughter alone.

She gave a sigh as she saw who was currently working on several test kits, his long straight hair obscuring his face as he focused on what he was doing. Sakura knew he had sensed her from a mile away and she stood where she was several feet from him, folding her arms. “Orochimaru-sama.”

One golden snake eye peered at her from the side between silky black strands. “Yes?”

“I’m sure you’ve guessed already why I’m here.”

She caught a flash of his smile as he stood up straight and turned to face her, matching the way she folded her arms. “Yes.”

“Can I ask that you don’t share those test results with anyone?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

She eyed him mistrustfully, and his smile widened. She felt uneasy in his presence and wanted to reiterate her point before she left the dark lab. “I doubt I need to threaten you, right? I’d like to be able to sleep at night knowing you won’t reconsider keeping quiet about this.”

“No need. But… I can’t help but to be curious. It’s very interesting… I ran the tests a couple of times to be sure. I’m sure young Sarada is asking the same question… how?” Orochimaru leaned toward her slightly, snake eyes wide with curiosity. With a blink, he corrected himself before she could answer, a devious smile flitting across his features. “Or rather… how, and _who?_ ”

Sakura cursed as her face burned red against her will - the image of Sarada’s father burned before her eyes a moment, and she covered her face with a hand. “No,” she hissed. “I’m not telling you. Just… just burn your records of it, okay? Don’t tell anyone.”

His chuckle echoed down the hallway and in her head as she left the lab then, rubbing her burning cheeks as she tried to purge rising memories of her past from her mind.

Sakura buried her face in her pillow as she pulled the covers over herself, trying to convince her brain to shut down and sleep instead of ponder for the hundredth time how the hell she was going to explain to Sarada that her birth-father was not Sasuke. Until today, she had kept her secret intact. Sakura had almost managed to forget about it after twelve years. She had been separated and then divorced from Sasuke for years now; though thoughts of Sarada’s real father tormented her occasionally and more frequently throughout the last few years, they resurfaced now with a fresh vividity as she was forced to face the fact that her daughter now knew that her father was not who she thought he was. The fact that Orochimaru also was keen on learning his identity made her stomach clench with anxiety, and she hoped that the snake-eyed sannin was going to keep it a secret like he’d promised. She was half-surprised he hadn’t tried to blackmail her; perhaps he had changed for the better somewhat.

Sleep came for Sakura slowly, the darkness creeping forward with deep black eyes and rumbling whispers.


	2. exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: explicit.

_twelve years ago_

The flaxen yellow flower petals were delicate between Sakura’s gloved fingers as she plucked them from the leaning stems, her fingers painted a golden sheen as the early evening light breathed through the trees and colored her outline a deep gold. There was a twist about her lips as she placed the valuable petals into her pouch - her long journey through the winding woods had finally been successful, and now she could think about making her way home.

Her mission from Tsunade to hunt down this ingredient was a trifle compared to what she was capable of, but her mentor had noticed Sakura's listlessness as of late, and this assignment was her way of giving Sakura a chance at a brief getaway to clear her head.

Sakura exhaled quietly, frowning down at the grass around her. She enjoyed this solitude, but her foray into the woods had not allowed her to escape her loneliness and that nagging feeling of emptiness that followed her after the end of the Fourth Shinobi War almost a year ago. Sasuke was gone, off wandering indefinitely, and Sakura had put him from her heart with determination. The world was, for the moment, peaceful - leaving high ranked missions rare - and she felt increasingly off-kilter in her personal life, like something vital was missing.

She lifted her head as she sensed something nearby; she had not heard or seen anything, but her instincts stirred deep within herself in a way she had not felt in a long time. Sakura was on high alert then; she trusted her instincts implicitly. Though her mind registered this swathe of deep woods to be devoid of anything but wildlife - there were no villages in any direction for miles - she would always trust her gut over her thoughts.

Then she swerved to her feet, kunai gripped in her hands in a defensive stance as she faced the quietly approaching figure. Her quick mind assessed the person - a man, seemingly average, with dark hair and a nondescript face in unmarked, simple clothing. He looked to her like a villager, which prompted her confusion as the map in her head declared again that this area was uninhabited. Her eyes flicked behind the villager as two other figures followed him; she narrowed her eyes, sensing by their chakra that they were nin. Sakura regripped her kunai with renewed vigor, ready for a fight, as the first one who had approached her stopped a few feet before her and inclined his head respectfully. “I’m sorry, but you will have to leave.”

She glared with flashing green eyes at him. “Says who?”

The two other nondescript, dark-robed nin behind the man stood at his side with their weapons drawn. “This is not a place for wanderers. I ask you again, please leave, or we will have to use force.”

“I just needed the flowers,” Sakura said, deciding to take a more open approach before she had to resort to violence. “They’re a valuable medical ingredient. I’m a medic-nin; I still need to gather more before I leave.”

The nin drew their swords, and with a curse Sakura stepped back. “Leave,” said the man, eyes flashing, and with a hiss Sakura dodged as the two men lunged at her with their blades drawn. Rolling to the side, she threw a kunai at one of them while she dodged the other, twisting left; the blade skimmed past the first attacker and the other grabbed at her. She rolled back and then leapt forward past them; she yanked her kunai from the dirt and her blades clashed with theirs as both men brought their blades down. _I don’t want to use my chakra,_ Sakura thought with clenched teeth as she lunged upward, the strength of her push sending them tumbling back. _I can’t destroy this part of the forest where these petals grow._

She was forced to back up in the direction the men had come from as she fended off their attacks; though their kenjutsu was not strong enough to overtake her, they were quick enough to keep her backing up in the same direction. The villager that had approached gave a sigh as she noticed a small encampment showing up in the distance behind them where they were approaching; as she glanced back at it, he spoke. “You’re just going to have to work it out with our leader then.”

With a frustrated exhale, Sakura danced back another step from the swing of the nin’s sword. “Fine.” She would much rather work this out peacefully than waste her energy in a pointless fight. At this, the nin stopped, and she turned to face the tiny village before her as she stepped through a simple stony gate and toward the central simple longhouse that she presumed was where their leader resided. They halted behind her as they reached the steps leading up to the door, and she stopped as well, glancing back at them as the longhouse doors slid open. Sakura found herself cast in shadow, and she dragged her gaze back upward. As she recognized the encampment’s leader, her face grew pale, and her jaw fell slack.

“Hmm.” He blinked at her with his visible dark eye, looking imperiously down at her from the massive shaggy black mane that ran over his face and down his shoulders and back. He wore his traditional red metal-plated samurai armor; his sword was sheathed and his arms crossed in a casual manner. Hearing his voice confirmed his identity in her mind with a sinking finality and Sakura could not fathom how he could be standing before her as he was now, completely alive and well.

“How?” she managed, and Madara Uchiha’s dark eye blinked again.

He turned to a nearby shinobi, ignoring her. “Bring her in.” Then he turned, the tangling black shadows of his ebony mane swishing in the night air as he disappeared into the longhouse.

Sakura did not get another glimpse of him as she was brought to a side room and then released; the door was shut behind her, and she found herself apparently alone as she brushed herself off and appraised her surroundings. It was a simple guest room with a small bedroll, adjoining bathroom, and a table by the door. She saw the bowl of hot rice sitting on the table and eyed it hungrily. _I can’t trust that food,_ she told her stomach, and she used her chakra to check around the room. No traps; no foreign chakra traces for other kinds of traps, nothing but an ordinary room.

Sakura sat tentatively on the bedroll and stretched her legs. She sent chakra through her body and healed her injuries; all were minor, and they were healed and gone in minutes. Only one left any sort of mark - a long pink line across her arm where one of her attackers’ swords had grazed her. Then her stomach ached and she eyed the rice again.

She reached out to it this time and poked through it thoroughly with a chopstick, inspecting nearly every individual grain and sniffing it for strange smells before she dared eat any. She found that the rice was untainted and harmless and it was gone in a minute once she decided it was clean. Then her eyes lifted to shift between the bathroom and the door to her guest room. _Guest? I’m no guest. I’m a captive. Madara Uchiha being their leader proves that._ She got to her feet and peeked into the bathroom. _A captive with a shower and a sink._ She was sorely tempted by the shower and ran her fingers through her dirt and blood-matted hair. _Do I dare do it?_ She inspected the perfectly-normal showerhead, watching the water run from it for a minute before she made her decision and stripped down. She took a two-minute shower and quickly pulled back on her clothes. Stepping back into the room and drying off her hair with a towel, she found that she was yet still unhindered and uninterrupted.

_Strange._

She tossed the towel into the bathroom and turned her refreshed attention to the door. _If I’m a guest, it’s unlocked. If it’s locked, I’m a captive._

She moved to it and pulled it with force; it opened easily, the sliding door slamming in its frame, and she winced at the loud sound before she stepped into the hall. There was a light at the last room down the dark hallway and she moved toward it, her boot-clad feet silent on the bamboo floors.

Sakura drew up near the open doorway just out of sight. She willed her pounding heart to slow as she listened. There wasn’t a sound in the room; warm light poured out into the hallway. She reached into her side pouch. Gripping the kunai’s handle, she then swerved and stepped into the room with the blade raised and ready.

Madara sat cross-legged with folded arms in the middle of the room. He wore a casual black yukata instead of the blood-red samurai armor; to Sakura, the added dark fabric completed the image of a living shadow from the past. The lantern light from the corners of the room reflected off the dark black mass of hair that rested on his shoulders and painted his outline with dull gold. He lifted his head slightly, and the midnight hair shifted; he regarded her with one visible, unreadable dark eye.

Disarmed by his casual appearance, Sakura shifted her stance back a step and reassessed. _No weapons, no armor. If he means to fight me, this is an insult to my abilities._ Sakura glowered at Madara, and he raised a slim eyebrow as she gritted her teeth. She considered throwing the kunai at him but knew that it would be a fruitless effort if he was anything like he was when she had last seen him at the end of the war. “Tell me why you’re here and what you want with me,” she hissed.

Madara simply patted the mat next to him with his flat expression unfaltering. 

Her eyes roved over the room once in her need to find another exit should she need to run. Behind Madara was a small private onsen, steam rising into the air of the room; to the right was a raised platform with a large bed. To the left was nothing but a small table. The room was bare, like it was a guest room and not his private quarters, and she suspected that he had been expecting her to approach the well-lit room. Sakura felt a flash of annoyance at herself for being so easily lured. _Madara Uchiha is a cunning, capable, and dangerous individual,_ she recalled, and she swallowed as she again beheld the legendary warrior sitting nonchalantly on the mat before her, her gaze flicking between his black-gloved hand on the mat and his face. 

Madara had been waiting patiently, and when her eyes settled upon him he finally answered her earlier demand. “It’s you who are approaching with such hostility. You are the one who caused the trouble that necessitated this meeting.” He was infinitely calm and looked pointedly bored as he folded his hands in his lap and let out a quiet exhale through his nose.

She sputtered, her fingers regripping her kunai. “Nonsense. Your nin’s initial hostility is what led to this ‘meeting’. I’m not stupid - you and your men want something with me, or you would have killed me instead of taking me captive.”

“Captive?” Madara stretched out his long legs and yawned; despite his relaxed demeanor, his dark gaze never left her. Sweat condensed on the back of her neck as his visible eye traveled down her slim figure and back up to her face. “I see you partook in the food and bath offered to you, as well as the unlocked door. Are those the amenities of someone who is trapped?” He returned to his casual sitting position, folding his arms. “Anyway, I have no interest in swapping insults with a mouthy kunoichi. You can sit here like I already suggested and have a peaceful discussion with me about making an arrangement. If that’s somehow not amenable to you, then you can try to fight… But seeing how that went between us last time, I don’t advise it.” Madara’s dark eye glinted and Sakura brandished her blade, her pulse throbbing under her skin. “Liar. You would never make a peaceful arrangement.”

Her heart stammered in her chest as Madara rose to his feet, his tall frame dimming the room with shadow as he grew in height. His dark mane fell forward around his face in a mass of approaching darkness; his crimson Sharingans spun with a reddish glow. “You insult me with too much confidence, little kunoichi.”

She backed up a step, her previous boldness faltering at the rumble of his tone. She knew better than to try and fight Madara; she had hardly forgotten the war and his impossibly deadly fighting prowess. Her memory replaced the visage of Madara momentarily with what she best remembered him looking like -- his wild mane of hair a blinding white, two Rinnegans glinting in the moonlight, his black and white robe fluttering in the breeze around his lithe and deadly figure. She found it difficult to reconcile his apparently normal younger self with the wild-eyed white-haired demon who had nearly killed them all from less than a year before. She felt anger stir within her from these memories; though Madara had relented as he died, ultimately having realized and been shown he was wrong -- she had not forgiven the near-deaths of herself and the ones she loved.

Madara’s intimidating aura shrunk back slightly as the corner of his mouth twitched. He had been observing as she’d dragged her eyes all over him in her remembering and Sakura felt heat begin to rise to her face. There was a purr in his voice then, and she wanted to kick herself. “Hn. It’s rude to stare.”

“But you…” Sakura lowered the kunai, feeling her ferocity and anger be overcome with her curiosity for a moment. “How are you even here?”

Madara folded his arms with a sigh; gloved fingers tapped on his sleeve. “You give me no reason to explain anything to you.”

Sakura bit her lip, considering her options as he again awaited her reply. He was right; not only had he shown no hostility to her, but he had also been forthright about making a peaceful agreement, even though she wasn’t sure she believed he was being genuine. She’d not given a thought to taking this a non-violent way since she had recognized Madara and her mind ached as she switched mindsets.

Sakura slipped the kunai back into her pouch as she kept thinking. She eyed Madara; he had turned from her to resume sitting casually on the mat. He stretched out a long leg and leaned on an elbow to look up at her, the dim light around them flickering on his skin; as more heat rose to her face, she remembered that there were other ways as a young and beautiful kunoichi to get information from him should he be resistant to answering her questions.

As if he’d seen the idea cross her mind, Madara flashed her a smirk, and she swallowed as she moved to sit with him. He is certainly not bad to look at, she allowed herself to think, and cursed softly as her body confirmed the thought in warm circles that drained through her stomach and pooled below. She looked blearily up alongside Madara as a servant quietly entered the room. The servant kept his eyes averted respectfully from them as he set down a tray, pouring the expensive-looking sake into the two glasses, setting them down again, and quickly hurrying out of the room. He quietly slid the door shut behind him.

Without hesitation Madara took a glass and lifted it to his lips. Sakura’s eyes followed the glimmering liquid as he took a sip, and when his dark eye lowered to hers she averted her gaze. She caught his smirk deepening in the corner of his mouth after this exchange; her cheeks burned as if she had pressed her face into a stove.

_Damn the Uchiha for always being beautiful,_ she thought. _Damn Madara for appearing the way he does now._ She saw how his skin was hale, how his body was lean and toned beneath the yukata; his shaggy mane of black hair shone in the light. He was older than she was by a measure, proven by the crease beneath his eye, but not by much.

“So, medic,” Madara mused, “You stole valuable herbs and fought the villagers, causing unrest and damage. There is also the problem of you recognizing who I am.” He moved his dark eye from the glass in his hand to her. “What would I possibly gain from explaining anything about my presence to you on top of all of that?”

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, and she flushed a little at his arching dark eyebrow.

“All that pondering and you didn’t come up with anything.” Madara was smiling this time as he took another sip. He had put an emphasis on _pondering_ and Sakura knew he was teasing her for her blatant staring. Her heart rate pounded loudly enough against her chest that she was certain he could hear it. _This is going a dangerous direction,_ she realized, feeling the adrenaline begin to pump into her blood. _I’m flustered and it’s difficult to focus on coming up with a bargaining chip like this. Madara of all people is flustering me._ She resisted cursing aloud as she adjusted herself on the mat, her thoughts spinning. “I didn’t take that long,” Sakura argued, her petulant tone a little high-pitched to her ears. “We could talk about an arrangement. I might have some insight about the war, or something else,” she added, avoiding his watchful eye as she worked to maintain a neutral tone.

Madara shifted, and her attention pinned back to him as he poured more sake into his glass. “Hmm. You might.” His visible ebony eye closed a moment as he enjoyed the drink. “But I’m not sure it’s anything worth my time. You are already too much of a risk for how you intend to inform everyone in Konohagakure that I am here.”

Sakura glanced away, frustrated that he was right again. Not only did she have no intention of telling him any Konoha secrets, but she also fully intended on going directly to Naruto and informing him that Madara Uchiha lives and breathes - _and drinks,_ she thought, as he finished off his second glass. She eyed the other glass of glimmering gold sake on the tray between them again, feeling tempted.

“Go ahead.” Madara was watching her again and his voice’s low timbre warmed her ears. Sakura wondered if she had expressed her temptation aloud as she glared up at him. “I’m not touching the sake or anything else.”

His eyebrow arched higher, and she hated how her cheeks smoldered. How had the slightest slip of her tongue sounded suggestive? Sakura shook herself of her thoughts and folded her arms. “Then if we can’t agree on an information exchange, perhaps you will be gracious enough to simply tell me.”

Madara’s arched eyebrow rose another tick as she continued. “You stabbed me through the gut, took Kakashi’s eye, and very nearly killed both of my teammates as well as… well, everyone else. I have a lot of reasons to begrudge you. Perhaps, if you satisfy my curiosity about you, I could let that grudge go and promise to keep quiet about your presence here.” She knew it was a bold, foolish long shot, but she hoped it could work, fixing her green eyes intently on him.

He considered her for a long moment. She found that it was increasingly difficult to look him in the eye the redder she got and she cast her eyes again to the glass of sake. Her skin felt the pressure of his gaze as she stared unseeingly forward, and then he finally spoke. “And what would your _forgiveness_ be worth to me?”

Madara’s long arm reached out to set his empty glass down and retreated into his shadowy figure. His gloved hands folded and he leaned forward on them, piercing gaze watching her. She did not have an answer for his question, but she was relieved of the pressure to answer when he continued. “I remember you, kunoichi. You have the Strength of a Hundred seal, like that Senju descendant Tsunade.” He gestured with a finger at her forehead, and she automatically reached up to touch the small purple diamond; she blinked back at him with the memory that came to her then. She had been speared in the air by the black staff gripped in his hand, both Rinnegan eyes staring back at her - she had seen the spark of recognition in his expression as she had healed around the normally fatal wound. She could hear Tsunade already in her head, scolding her for the way she was butchering this exchange with Madara.

“I’m surprised you remember me,” she murmured, eyeing the sake again. “Who knows how many other people you’ve speared through in your time.”

Amusement flickered in the dark eye and Sakura’s face burned. The sake was more and more tempting if just to drown out her embarrassment. She had never been very good at diplomacy, and the more she felt that she embarrassed herself in front of Madara, the more she wanted to sink into the earth and disintegrate. The gloved hand dipped aside once more as he poured yet another glass of sake that he lifted to his closed-eyed smirk. “Hn. You have a fire in you, kunoichi; I’d like to know your name.” At his words, spoken in an amicable rumble, the redness seared from Sakura’s cheeks to her ears.

She hated how Madara’s request flattered her; she hated how her grudge and suspicions against him were slipping, losing their hold on her heart as the heat bloomed darker in her face and began to sink through her body. _Dammit, no,_ she told herself, inhaling slowly. _Regardless of his peaceful manner now, regardless of how he appears, I cannot let my guard down for a single moment._ She unconsciously rubbed her legs together, feeling glad she had showered. _Absolutely no sake,_ she told herself as she burgeoned her resolve and met his ebony eyes that watched her with a spark of interest. _I can do this._

“I am Haruno Sakura.” She made no effort to dress up her official introduction.

“Sakura.” Madara rolled the name around in his mouth and then downed his glass, eyeing her all the while. “I see why.” One black gloved hand crossed the gap between them and he took a lock of her hair between his fingers, examining it a moment before releasing it.

Sakura was momentarily stunned by the unexpected contact. It occurred to her then the true danger she was in, dancing around a flame with one of the most dangerous shinobi ever to live, and it occurred to her again as she picked up the sake glass and slowly brought it to her lips. _For diplomacy_ , she thought, meeting Madara’s dark gaze and feeling something in her instincts stir as she took a sip.

“So,” she said, feeling the pleasant burn of the sake tingle down her throat as she spoke, “Can we agree to that accord? You satisfy my curiosity, and I’ll keep your presence here a secret?”

Madara rested his chin on one of his folded gloved hands, long hair shifting slightly as he gave her a wicked smile. “Hmm… why not.”

Sakura swallowed another sip of sake before setting it on the tray. She was amazed he’d agreed. Madara could crush her easily without a second thought, wiping out the threat of her telling anyone about him; the only reason he would be interested in a more peaceful agreement with her would be if he wasn’t as ruthless as he once was. She felt her shoulders slowly relax as she began to trust that he had no intention to attack her. _Perhaps the end of the war really did make a difference for his mindset._ Sakura’s eyes flicked back to him with renewed interest.

“Are you going to attack or otherwise harm Konoha?”

Madara tilted the side of his face against his hand, his dark eyes unreadable. “No.”

She opened her mouth to fire back another question, and he lifted his other palm; she paused, feeling impatient, and his lips twitched with a smirk. “My turn.” She swallowed her words and waited.

“Did you previously know I was here?”

Sakura’s fingers tapped on the tatami mat between them. “I was on a personal expedition into the forest to find herbs for medicinal use. I didn't expect to get attacked at all, let alone come across you.” She narrowed her eyes, tracing a finger along a freshly-healed scar that ran along her bare forearm; Madara’s eyes followed the finger and returned to her face. She bit her lip and cleared her head as she then asked her next question.

“How are you alive?”

“I was brought back again,” he answered simply. His gaze shifted from her and to the sake; the bottle was half-empty. Sakura felt her frustration rising to a boiling point and her tone grew petulant as her questions spilled over the edge of her lips. “Well, I gathered that. Who was involved? How did it work? Are you planning anything else?” She folded her arms, her face still feeling hot as she regarded him.

The dark eye slid over her and Sakura shrunk backward as Madara leaned toward her then, his shadow running across her form. He shifted the tray away from the space between them, the glasses clinking together as they were unceremoniously pushed out of the way. One black-clad knee slid forward as he leaned ever closer to her.

She trembled slightly as Madara drew close enough to whisper in her ear. His midnight-black hair curtained them both; she was overwhelmed with scents of sake and ash, like she was surrounded by bonfire smoke. She felt his lips brush against the curves of her upper ear. “Why are you blushing?”

Sakura shuddered, the sensitive skin of her ear tingling from his warm breath. His gloved hand cupped her shoulder, and she gasped softly at the touch; she reached into her pouch for her kunai, but her arm was caught by his other hand. An absurd instinct pressed within her to reach up and touch the shaggy black mane that surrounded her, to thread her fingers through it and feel it; his face hovered just beyond her sight by her ear, and she felt the hand that enveloped her shoulder tighten. Her body responded to the nearness of him and she felt herself growing tense; more thoughts of reaching into the blackness and giving in bloomed within her, and Sakura exhaled sharply into his mane as she tried to tamp down her rising desires. _He knows._

“Answer me, Sakura.” Madara’s hand slid off of her shoulder and rested on her waist. Her blood throbbed where his nose brushed her ear and his breath washed across her sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps. Pull away, she told herself, but she had no motivation to do so as her skin sparked where his hands were. Her hand rose up toward him, hesitating between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

“Th… the room is hot,” she blurted, and Madara’s responding chuckle reverberated through her being. “Is that so? It feels fine to me.” His other hand shifted down to her waist and she found herself pulled into his lap as he sat back to where he was on the mat. She scrambled to adjust, her heart pounding in her ears - she settled into his lap, letting one leg sling around his back and one leg rest bent against his inner thigh. He made a pleased rumble in his throat and his hot breath dragged along her ear as he moved back enough to see her face. She felt the sound that he made thunder down her core and boil her blood as she dared to meet his eyes. _Kami… I’m lost._

_Resist,_ Sakura told herself as she lifted her hands with fascination. She was shaking slightly as she pushed away the black hair that covered the other side of Madara’s face. He tensed at her unexpected touch, but he didn’t move to stop her as she rested her small hands along the sides of his jaw, her fingers tracing thoughtfully along his features. Both of his ebony eyes transfixed her as the heat rose between their entwined bodies. She felt his warm sake-tinged breath across her face as she explored him; he waited for her patiently as before, smirking down at her red face.

One of Sakura’s hands withdrew and splayed lightly along the side of his neck. She could feel his pulse beneath his skin where her fingers rested and it was elevated like hers. Sakura’s eyes widened at this discovery, and she tried again to pull her mind from the warmth between them and think clearly. _He's a terrible person and I shouldn’t in his arms. Should get off of him and leave. Should..._

“Hmm.” The rumble of Madara’s voice shattered Sakura’s thoughts and she brought her eyes slowly back to his face. He bent down closer to her, watching and feeling how her responding shiver made her tremble in his arms as he spoke in a teasing tone. “Is this more comfortable?”

“Is this… some kind of… jutsu?” Sakura willed herself to cool down, to stop reacting to his touch, but she only managed to tug her other hand from his face. They both watched as it fell onto his chest, fingers catching on the edge of his yukata. It occurred to her with a spreading shock how she was tangled in his lap, how her one bent leg was keeping a distance between their centers. To adjust to a more comfortable position would mean slinging her other leg around his waist, pressing her body fully against his, and she began to panic as she realized how much she wanted to do exactly that.

“A jutsu?” Madara’s hand slid up her back. “Are you trying to flatter me or yourself?”

She could not help but to lean into his touch, his spiced smoky smell intoxicating her, and she exhaled his scent sharply as she tried once more to stop herself. Sakura chose to answer the unspoken question that hung between their entangled bodies instead of their increasingly heated spoken ones.

“I--- I shouldn’t, Madara---”

“Why not?” There was a growl at the edge of his question. Her blood pulsed, and she dared to meet his eyes. Twin scarlet Mangekyō Sharingans spun there, and Sakura swallowed her fear. Her mind recovered for a moment and she spoke more clearly than before. “Because you didn’t answer my questions,” she said, an unintentional purr in her voice. She allowed her hand to slide down his chest and rest on his side. “Because…” _Because he at least used to be terrible. I have to keep trying to resist. Cannot give in._

The gloved hand on her back lowered, dancing dangerously along the hem of her qipao. “I think,” came Madara’s rumble as he took her bent knee and moved her calf to hitch around his waist with her other leg, “that you want this, badly, and that you don’t have the will to resist. I think,” he continued as his hands slid under her shirt, “that you are simply wasting time that we could be taking advantage of.” Sakura gasped as his hands moved across her bare back beneath her clothing. His thumbs caught along the fabric; it bunched as he drew his hands up slowly, about to rip the shirt from her. She pushed her weight forward, managing to pin him back against the tatami mat and halt his hands’ progress. She settled on his lap where she straddled him and hovered her face over his. “Arrogant bastard,” she whispered, and she felt Madara’s hands slide up her thighs; another shudder wracked her frame, and she knew she was beyond the point of no return as she looked down to see the desire in his expression. _Why not?_ his words repeated in her mind, and her instincts expanded with warmth, pushing against her will to resist. She knew he was waiting for her to be the one to give in completely, and she knew that there was no way she could stop now. _The past is the past._

Sakura felt every part of Madara’s responding laugh beneath her. He squeezed her thighs with his warm gloved hands; she inhaled sharply as he pressed up against where she straddled him against the mat. She felt then exactly how their conversation had affected him, and she leaned further down past his face, breathing in the wild smoky musk of his hair and skin. Her breath made the strands of black hair flutter, and she felt him shudder beneath her as her lips grazed the heated skin where his neck met his jaw. Sakura couldn’t help but to smile into his warm skin at his reaction.

_“Sakura.”_ Madara’s warning tone reverberated through her body again. Clenching her legs around his waist, she sat up again, her hand sliding up to his face; she drew close enough that their noses brushed. One of his hands on her thigh dragged up her body to run through her hair; she felt the final threads of her resolve fray and break as he stared up at her with darkly imploring eyes. “Damn it all,” Sakura murmured, and she finally gave in, melding her lips to his.

Madara grinned against her mouth, responding with an edge, his pleased deep rumble making her groan with need. He bodily flipped them both over, pinning her to the mat. He slanted his mouth against hers, pressing his weight along her body, and she sighed into the crashing of their lips. She felt him shudder again as her hands ran down his back and pulled him tighter against her, and she gasped at the hardness she felt pressing between her legs; he smiled against her mouth, his hand taking her wrist and lowering it, inviting her hand to drag down his yukata and feel him. She stared up at him with unveiled, pure desire, her hand gripping him, and he made a pleased sound in his throat as he lowered again and kissed her roughly. Her legs lifted into the air and then crossed behind his back; his rumble deepened into a growl, and Madara picked her up, tossing her onto the nearby bed.

He wasted no time in resuming what he was doing; he pinned her back to the bed, lips moving along her throat and then along her collarbone. His quick hands removed her qipao, and his kisses moved from her breasts to her stomach; his dark eyes met hers as he teased the shorts down her waist, and she watched him with green eyes that smoldered with desire.

Madara smiled into her heated skin as his hands spread her legs to arch around his head of long black hair. “Mine,” he murmured as he tossed aside his gloves; Sakura groaned with desire as he teased her with his bared hand, thumb stroking along her clit. Her blush had spread to her entire body; she cried out as his slow ministrations burst her thoughts into flames and burned through her core.

“Madara,” she moaned. He slid a finger into her, smiling at her wetness and the sound of his name spoken sinfully from her lips; she reached out and gripped his ebony mane, crying out as he teased her in a slow rhythm. He bent, and she shuddered violently as he let out a deliberate hot exhale against her vulnerable flesh.

“Madara...” His mouth descended, and she cried out as his tongue flicked in circles, lapped along her folds, and then moved into her. Her hands curled into his hair and she arched against him with her cries. Sweat glistened on her naked figure and his hands snaked up her sides as he dragged his mouth slowly upward. She stared into his burning red eyes as he rose above her, groaning with need as he kissed her neck once more.

“Madara.” She tore at the ties of his yukata which loosened easily; he helped her along, tearing it away, revealing his slender body that gleamed with sweat in the dim light of the room. Her legs crossed behind his back, and he pressed his length against her thigh, meeting her eyes. She reached down, stroking him, watching the way his eyes closed briefly with pleasure before opening again to pin her with his intense gaze. “Sakura,” he murmured, lips crashing against hers as he began to push his hot member into her.

“Madara!” She screamed out his name as he plunged himself into her depths. His growl resounded throughout every part of her as he drew himself almost entirely out of her and then savagely pushed back in, making a slick wet sound. Her hands ran up his back, breaths coming hot as she arched up and kissed him, desperate as he began to move in and out of her with a steadily faster rhythm. She felt her body raging with sensations and pleasure, her mind bursting with desire and a building need as he took her over and over. She lost herself in his eyes as they both grew close, and she clenched her teeth as he smirked down at her, slamming into her fiercely.

Their gasps were unified as they both reached the peak, shuddering against each other as they lost themselves to the pleasure. At once, their bodies relaxed, and he lowered against her as she curled around him. His breaths were long and slow against her neck, his face buried in her halo of pink tangled hair; she exhaled into the shaggy mane that tangled around them like a blanket. She fell asleep with him still inside of her.

Sakura awoke pressed into a darkness that was both soft and coarse at once. Her fingers curled into it, and she stretched her body in the sheets; her muscles were pleasantly sore. She pressed her face into the wild nest of hair and breathed in the bouquet of smoke, spice, and sake; but the very obvious traces of the scents of sex made her pause. _Where am I?_

She made herself sit up on an elbow to examine what she had been nestling into and blinked several times as Madara Uchiha rolled over onto his back, amused eyes dancing as she stared at him in disbelief.

_Oh._

Her face bloomed with color, and he lifted a lazy hand to push a tangled lock of bedhead hair from her face. “Sleep well, cherry blossom?” Madara smirked up at her.

_Oh, kami._

She realized her nakedness and jarred her arms together to cover herself. He laughed, and her body responded warmly to the rumble of his voice like it had the night before. She smacked out a hand along his chest. “Don’t you laugh.” She covered her face with her other hand, forgetting her goal to cover her chest, and her breasts bounced as she hid her face. “You know what it does to me.”

Madara’s laugh became a deep chuckle and she slammed both hands on his chest, her expression twisting as she pressed her thighs together. “Did you hear me?!”

“Yes,” he said then as he reached up and pulled her down to him. She melted into his kiss. “Again?” she murmured as desire filled her; he tugged her body to move onto his, and he met no resistance as he teased her. She sighed against his mouth and Madara whispered against her lips as he slid into her. “You’re staying.”

_Late in the darkness, Madara woke; his arm pulled around the slender body against his side, and he tilted his head to look down at the mussed head of hair against his shoulder. His hand lifted and threaded through the light strands as he frowned down at her. He could have easily killed the girl, even after their pleasant hours together, and the threat of his existence being told to the world would have been wiped out. But there was a warmth where she curled around him, and he found that he did not have any interest in quenching her life’s flame. She sighed in her sleep against his skin; his fingers fell from her hair and rested on the creamy-pale curve of her shoulder. His frown deepened at the sound of her heart beating near his as he closed his eyes, calling back the dark of sleep. The last conscious thought that crossed his mind was of how there might yet still be reasons for him to live._


	3. seed

Sakura stayed for three nights and three days.

On the night of the third day, she lay beside Madara in the darkness, her mind spinning. _How am I still here?_ she asked herself, and she felt him stir in his sleep. His arm pulled over her stomach, large hand twitching over her skin. His smoky scent filled her nose and her body hummed pleasantly.

Sakura closed her eyes. Her hand threaded through the fingers over her belly and she sighed deeply. There was a deeply threaded panic that still thrummed threateningly beneath the surface of her mind, and with it were the many strands of thought that told her all the reasons she should not be where she was now. She knew Madara was still dangerous; she knew there was every chance that he could still turn on her, could still hurt her, but her undeniable contentment cut through the tension and she felt at ease where she lay beside him. _I had told myself not to let my guard down,_ she remembered as she turned over and looked at Madara. _Then I opened myself up to him completely._

Her hand crossed the gap between them; she drew aside the hair from his face, and she tilted her head back against the pillows as she examined his features. Sakura was unafraid to stare at him now since his piercing gaze was hidden in his slumber. Her thumb traced his sharp brow and along his jaw; she noticed faint scars from battles passed. The dark room did nothing to diminish the sight of the hale and peaceful face, and she let out a quiet exhale at the Uchiha before her. _Beautiful,_ it occurred to her, and she cast her gaze away as the panic inside of her chest tightened.

She remembered for a moment the last several days. It had gone so quickly that time had become a blur; briefly, she closed her eyes, allowing the memories to wash over her mind’s eye.

_Sakura had awoken alone in the large bed, arms reaching, and she heard his nearby chuckle as she sat up in the sheets with a grouchy look and mussed hair. She turned bleary eyes over to see Madara reclining in the private onsen, the steam from the water rising and filling the air around him; scents of orange citrus and spice tanged the air. Sakura blinked at him as she realized again that she had lingered here, lingered with him; before the hailstorm of conflicting thoughts dawned on her, his quiet chuckle stopped, and he spoke. “Sakura. Stop sitting there looking frazzled and sit with me.”_

_She could also smell the food that was on a table near the bath; her stomach growled, and she knew very well that she could use a thorough wash. Shoving her thoughts back into the background of her head, Sakura rose from the sheets with a yawn. She felt Madara’s eyes on her as she walked toward the onsen, one shy hand covering her breasts as she stopped beside the raised and large round onsen; her gaze stopped at the sight of him, his toned frame taking up most of the latter half of the bath, dark hair clouding around him in a black shaggy frame. Madara’s dark eyes pierced hers; her heart beat jaggedly at his intense gaze, and she dashed her eyes away in sudden shyness._

_Swallowing her nervousness, Sakura stepped into the water. It was warm enough to soothe but not too hot; she sighed as she eased into the water, and she blushed when her legs brushed against the insides of Madara’s knees. She clamped her legs together in her attempt to stay covered and still somewhat modest within the slightly bubbled water; though the bath soothed her aching limbs and dirty skin, the storm of worries inevitably festered within her. The weight of his gaze only increased her anxiety; she heard him shift forward, hair falling around them into the water as his face drew closer, and she couldn’t help but to look up into his face as his dark eyes pinned hers. “Relax.”_

_“How do I do that?” Her tone was mildly petulant, her thoughts beginning to spin with guilt_ \-- how could I have been so stupid as to sleep with him? Why am I still here?

_“Stop worrying so much.”_

_Sakura blinked at Madara. He was the picture of ease; he stretched his muscled arms behind his head and regarded her with mild amusement, moving back to lean again against the onsen. Sakura hunched at the opposite end of the onsen, shyly and continually attempting to avoid accidentally brushing up against any parts of him. Sakura averted her eyes carefully from where his spread legs met and she felt the blush returning to her as her thoughts continued to spin. “You know, we made our deal,” Sakura began, “I had promised to keep your peaceful life here secret if you answered me. But you never answered me about how you’re alive. You should tell me that, and then I should go ---”_

_Madara’s rough hands reached out and curled around Sakura’s face, tugging her closer, and her thoughts halted to a stop as he pressed his lips to hers. She sighed shakily and moved toward him in the warm water, responding to his warm kiss, her hands sliding up his knees; his hands moved down and curled around her waist, pulling her to him. Her body shuddered and sparked with wanting as their bared forms pressed in the water and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders; he pulled back, dark eyes glinting, and she felt her muscles relax at the warmth in his expression._

_“You’re distracting me again,” Sakura murmured, and his smile was a wry one. She glared up at him, her anger skin-deep. “You will tell me.”_

_Madara’s dark eyes held hers, and for a moment Sakura was taken aback at the way he looked at her. There was no malice there; no ill-intent behind the ebony irises, not even the narrowed look of muted judgement toward her for giving in to him. It was as simple as warmth itself, and Sakura realized as she stood in his arms in the onsen that she no longer held him on a dark pedestal of danger in her mind anymore. She viewed him now as just a man; a man whose company she both wanted to linger within and distance herself from as her thoughts tangled conflictingly._

_Her hands moved across his chest; she wondered how touch could come so easily between them once the initial ice was so easily broken. Madara’s warmth surrounded her, and she felt his hands on her waist bring her closer; their fronts pressed, and her arms snaked automatically around his sides as his kiss was edged and gentle simultaneously. Her heart beat frantically in her chest as his tongue met hers and the heat between them steamed through her thoughts, dissipating them. Somewhere deep within her she knew that this had become more than a sort of diplomatic exchange, that the warmth she found in their meshed lips was beyond just physical desires. The question in her mind about how he truly viewed her faded as their bodies slowly entwined in the water, her worries successfully banished from her mind for now._

_I can’t believe I’m here. None of that happened._ She swallowed her rising apprehension as she felt her heart beating faster and her spinning thoughts make her dizzy. _Surely I just dreamt it all up and am sleeping in my bed at home. I didn’t just bare myself body and soul to Madara Uchiha, of all people._

Her anxious green eyes fell to his rough hand that was splayed along her stomach, and with a weight like a boulder that dropped through her chest and into her gut, she realized that she had not remembered to purge her body of the evidences of their unions at all in the last three days. With sinking dread Sakura sent a pulse of chakra deep into herself, checking.

A miniature but certain thrum of life answered her back, deep in her womb.

Sakura sat up abruptly, Madara’s arm slipping from her stomach. She heard him stir as she got to her feet and quickly got dressed. “What’s wrong?” He sat up in the sheets. Sakura turned, her heart aching at the sight of him - black hair a wild tangle that covered the blankets, tired eyes beseeching her - former enemy, turned lover. Her face twisted with pain. She knew by the way her heart ached that this had gone far beyond what she had ever intended… and now, things had just gotten far more complicated.

“I’m sorry, Madara,” she choked, and with a hiss of pain, she turned from his confused expression and ran from the room.

Sakura kept running until she was deep in the woods. She ran with tears streaming down her cheeks and her mind spinning with the last three days as she tore through the trees, trying to decide what to do. She didn’t slow until she neared Konoha, and she slowed to a trot with a hand over her lower stomach as she entered the midnight-cloaked gates. She tried to regulate her breathing as she strode through the familiar streets. _You just slept with Madara Uchiha,_ her brain was repeating, _many, many times, and he is very much alive, and now you are pregnant._

_Maybe it’s all still just a dream,_ she hoped as her small house came into view. _Maybe…_

The hope circled and repeated as she slipped into her own bed, her hands spread across the empty space in her bed. She both imagined and remembered his wild mane and long, warm form surrounding her as she fell asleep with tears drying on her cheeks.

Sakura had inevitably realized not long after her return home that every moment of her time with Madara had been real, proven by the seed of life that grew deep within her. She refused the remaining option of purging her body; though becoming a single mother was a prospect she did not want, she also did not want to free herself of this last vestige of him, and she had always wanted a child of her own.

She held to the promise that she had made to him during their time together - that she would not reveal that he is alive nor where he is. Sakura was determined to keep her word and she was determined to not return to him, her fears too great of what he would say and do, of what might happen or not happen.

She found that the thing to save her from the inevitable questions of her baby’s paternity was Sasuke’s slowly melting demeanour toward her. Though her heart wasn’t as into it anymore, she pursued him, and managed to catch him well before her pregnancy was showing. Time progressed; Sakura wed Sasuke, and she bore her child that had the unmistakable eyes and hair of an Uchiha. No one questioned her, and if rumors were raised that their wedding might have been due to her pregnancy, she did not care - her secret about her child’s true parentage was still well-hidden behind the easy guise that it was Sasuke’s.

But Sakura allowed herself one nod to Madara that no one but her would recognize. She had thought of a name for her daughter - one that combined Sakura’s name with Madara’s in a subtle enough way. _Sarada._

_present day_

The impending conversation bubbled beneath the surface between Sakura and Sarada for a week, Sakura constantly avoiding the subject with her daughter about her true parentage. She knew that tensions were high between them and she didn’t have much longer before that tension snapped. It was too large a truth to hide in plain sight anymore.

Sakura found herself alone in the kitchen while Sarada was out training. There was no way her thoughts would relent without distraction now and she cut fiercely into the onion on the cutting board before her as she tried for the hundredth time to purge her mind of Madara. He had haunted her all week; every night, her memories replayed each moment she’d had with him as freshly as if they had happened recently, and he sliced through her thoughts in her waking moments. She was tormented by it and she had not slept well.

_Damn that ancestry testing trend_ , she thought as she cut the onion in fourths, her chef’s knife glinting in the early afternoon light as she brought it up and rocked it against the board beneath her palm. _Damn Orochimaru for doing the test and sending Sarada back the results. Damn it all._ She clenched her teeth as she diced the onion, blaming it for the prickling at the corners of her eyes. _Damn my head for keeping thoughts of Madara Uchiha after all these years. I regret ever meeting him._

The cutting board cracked beneath her knife and Sakura let up the pressure, blinking down at it for a moment before slumping her shoulders and hanging her head. Her practiced hands swept the diced onion into a bowl nearby and she tossed the broken cutting board into the trash can by the counter. She took out a tray of smoked bacon from the oven, switching off the heat and placing the tray on the counter; the scent of smoke rose and filled her nostrils, and she held very still for a moment. 

_Sakura buried her face in the mane of black hair that covered the pillows, breathing in the heady, spicy smells of smoke and steel. Her fingers threaded through it, and she made a happy noise not unlike a purr as she enjoyed the warmth that surrounded her. “You have an obsession with my hair,” Madara grumbled as she smiled into the blackness and tugged it aside to peek at him; though his expression was unamused as he looked down at her, his eyes were warm._

“No!” Sakura cursed and shoved aside the tray; she pressed her other hand over the small burn, hunching against the opposite counter as she hung her head and tried to hold herself together. _It was three days,_ she told herself again. _It means nothing to him, if he’s still alive to remember it. If he remembers me._

She cursed again as she slid to the floor and huddled her face into her knees. She wanted to put her mind in a standstill, to purge the memories into the tears that streamed down her cheeks. Her desire to forget conflicted against her desire to relive it all again.

Outside the glass door beyond the kitchen counter, the distant sound of the wind in trees whistled and sighed. The oven next to her creaked quietly as it cooled. Somewhere above her in the living room, a clock ticked, its rhythm ever-steady.

Sakura let out a long exhale. She got to her feet, turning around to face the glass door, her gaze running through the sun-dappled woods. Her heartbeats slowed as she found that the only thing she regretted in all she had gone through was that she had never gone back and sought that hidden longhouse out again.

_Madara,_ she thought, brows drawing together as she stared deep into the shifting woods. _Where are you now?_

Sakura stepped forward, one hand pulling open the glass door; she breathed in the scents of the leaves and the clean, crisp air, holding the memories in her mind and then releasing them into her pulsing bloodstream. Without further hesitation she took off into the forest, deciding that it was time for her to find out.

She did not notice Sarada watching her go, standing at the open patio door with wide eyes.

Sarada kept up with Sakura from a distance, using what she had learned in training to remain unheard and unseen as she followed her through the woods. She could tell how focused and tense she was even from a distance away. She didn’t know where they were headed, but she had a heavy feeling that it had to do with the conversation that they were yet to have about those test results.

As an hour passed of running, Sarada was having difficulty keeping up. She had tried to keep track of where they were going, picturing a map in her head, but she’d gotten lost after the first half hour; sweat drenched her arms and her back, and she was using all the energy and focus she had to keep her mother in sight ahead of her as well as remain undetected. She felt lucky that Sakura was so focused on her path and not as much on her surroundings. There were many twists and turns through the dense woods they ran through and Sarada wondered what could await them at this distant, obscure location.

It was another half-hour of running through the trees before Sakura slowed to a trot. Sarada withheld her gasp of relief as she tried to quietly regain her breath and her stamina, keeping a large distance from her mother and brushing off the dirt and stuck leaves from her clothes. She saw Sakura stop to breathe against a tree, running a hand up to let down her light hair; her skin was flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat though she did not look tired. She exhaled long and slow before she then walked with a straight back and watchful expression toward her destination.

It was then that Sarada noticed what that destination was. There were low rock walls around a tiny village that surrounded a wooden longhouse that was simple and traditional of build. There was a smattering of small houses surrounding it; dark-clothed people were dotted around the small village. Sarada didn’t recognize their clothing, and they did not wear symbols that she could see from where she was. Deciding to watch from above to keep her safe distance, Sarada climbed up a tall oak tree that overlooked the village, settling into the V of two large branches; she was relieved to have a chance to rest. Her dark eyes fell back to her mother’s figure as she approached the gates.

Sakura stood a moment, staring back at the two shinobi guards who silently appraised her. Without a single word exchanged they nodded to her, and then exchanged glances with each other as she walked into the village, her green eyes flicking around with barely detectable apprehension.

Sarada and Sakura’s gazes synchronously caught on a looming, red-armored figure that stepped out from the central building, his black mane of hair obscuring his face and running down his back to his legs. He stopped where he stood, and for a moment that felt as long as a pause in time, he and Sakura stared at each other.

“Sakura,” his deep voice rumbled then, breaking the spell, and she tensed where she stood. “Madara,” she answered unwaveringly, stepping toward him.

_Madara?_ The name was familiar to Sarada; she had heard it before, but she couldn’t place it in her memory. She was too distracted by the scene unfolding beneath her.

Madara stepped toward Sakura in return. Her face was untensing slowly, and as she watched him step forward and into the shifting sunlight, her face broke into a smile. She threw herself forward then and they crashed together, her form small and slight against his intimidating red and black frame as his arms curled around her and she buried her face into his neck. Even from high above, Sarada could see the tears that streamed down Sakura’s cheeks and dripped slowly down the red samurai armor that Madara wore. He bent, murmuring in her ear, and her arms snaked around his back and pressed her closer to him.

Shinobi and villagers stared at their embrace, standing in small clusters and curious crowds around them; they were careful not to crowd them too closely. Sarada’s heart was pounding at what she was witnessing, and she lifted her hands to her face in her shock as she knew without a doubt that this must be the man who is her father. His hair was like Sarada’s; his eyes, from what she could see through his mane, were like hers; he matched her. He looked more like her than Sasuke ever had, and fascination grew in her mind as she sunk back against the branch. Madara had taken Sakura’s hands as they parted, and she was gazing up at him with conflicted eyes.

She said something to Madara that she could not hear and his eyes widened in shock. Sakura lifted herself up on her toes, her hands resting on his red chestplate, as she planted a soft kiss to the side of his mouth; he curled a hand over her face, his terse expression full of emotion for a moment before he slowly let go of her face and turned his face upward.

Sarada sunk further back against the tree. Her blood pulsed.

Madara’s red Sharingan eye stared up at her where she balanced on the branch, blinking once beneath the massive black mane. Sakura followed his gaze, emerald eyes pinning to their daughter watching them from the tree.

With a squeak, Sarada leapt off the branch and onto the ground - she took off running, panting, her heart pounding painfully against her chest. _Oh no. Oh no._ She pushed to run as hard as she could, and had a small hope that she had escaped when she skidded to a halt in a pine-needle clearing, where Madara and Sakura stood waiting.

She stared at them in panic, and was about to kick off in another direction when her mother spoke. “Sarada, stay.”

“Sarada?” Madara echoed, and he looked down at Sakura, who smiled tentatively back.

Sarada swallowed, sweat running down her back, and she apprehensively stepped before them. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, bowing her head. She was terrified of Madara. His tall frame shadowed the clearing and his aura of power was intimidating; next to her mother’s own aura of authority and strength, Sarada was shivering with fear.

“Look up,” Sakura said softly, and her tone was warm, encouraging. She lifted her eyes to them, her gaze flicking from her mother’s to Madara’s. His dark eye watched her evenly and Sarada swallowed as her mother spoke. “This is Madara Uchiha,” she stated, a slight tremor in her voice, “your… real father.”

Recognition slapped Sarada's thoughts across the wall of her head in the form of remembered history texts from her studies. _The great Uchiha patriarch, a co-founder of Konoha, the feared "Grim Reaper", and one of the most powerful shinobi to walk the earth. A fierce samurai who single-handedly defeated the entire Shinobi Alliance army, was imbued with godlike power, and brought about the Infinite Tsukuyomi._ Her stomach dropped at the sight of him. _He’s in all the history books. How did he slip my mind?_ Then, _he is my father?_

“Sarada.”

She stared with wide eyes at Madara, who had extended a black gloved hand forward. She stared at the hand and then shook it, her hand enveloped firmly by his before she dashed her eyes to the ground and bowed. “It’s an honor,” she managed, trembling.

Sakura stepped forward and set comforting hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t have followed me,” she scolded. “But I can’t help that you did.” She glanced back at Madara, who was observing them with dark eyes. “I need to speak with him before we go home. But… I don’t want you going back and telling everyone about this. I need you to hang out here for a bit while we go talk, okay?”

Sarada gave her a hug, then flashed her Sharingan at her mother with a small smile. “I suppose I could just train here in the woods while I wait.” Madara blinked with surprise behind Sakura at the sight of Sarada’s red eyes, and a proud smile twitched along his mouth.

“Good.” Sakura patted her and then turned to Madara, who offered her his arm. She took it, and he led her back toward the small village; Sarada watched them go. At the gate entrance, she could just manage to see through the trees as he suddenly pulled Sakura to him, lips meshing with hers. 

Sarada looked away, face pink, trying to scrub the image from her head as she began to focus her Sharingan and train.

“She looks like me,” Madara commented as they entered the familiar longhouse. Sakura was still recovering from their reunion, and she took a moment to gather her scattered thoughts as she glanced up at him with a small smile. His dark eye held hers. “And… I like the name.”

Sakura closed her eyes and leaned against his arm as he led her down a side hall and into a larger room than they had been in before. As she looked around, seeing the scattered dark clothing, dishes, draped Uchiha banners and armor racks around a large unmade bed, she knew these were his private quarters. They sat down together on the covers, and her heart was pounding harder as his large, warm hand rested on her knee and he shifted to stare at her intently.

“So Sarada is why you left.”

Sakura turned her face to escape his dark gaze, but his gloved hand tipped her chin back up so she was forced to look at him. She could not hide the pain in her eyes. “Yes.”

“Hmm.” He let go of her face, looking away, and years of questions began to stir from the depths of Sakura’s memories as she gazed back at him with a troubled expression. She could tell that he was still processing that he had a daughter, and she decided to be the one that waited quietly.

“You should have come to me about this sooner.” Madara turned to her with a dark look that shattered her guilt, sending its shards through her chest; she cringed as forced herself to keep her eyes on his. “I know,” she whispered, “I know.”

“All these years…” Madara’s eyes were wistful then, and he exhaled as he frowned deeply, his disappointment clear. “Why did you wait so long?”

Sakura looked away, her throat tightening with her shame, and she closed her eyes. “Look, I…” Her frustration rose, and her fingers curled into the mattress. “Because you’re you, Madara. Because how could I assume you would want her in your life?” She searched his impassive face. “And… and you never sought me out, either.” 

She looked away, the pain in her chest constricting her tightly. “You’re the most dangerous thing to ever shadow my life. I do not know how or why you are here again, and I don’t know what you want. But…” Her green eyes were distant as she watched the Uchiha banners on the far wall drift restlessly. “I kept my word.” She closed her eyes. “Regardless of my vows to my village and to my friends I kept my word to you.” Sakura rose from the bed then, running her hands through her hair; she couldn’t bear to look at Madara, couldn’t bear the tension between them. She looked to the door, feeling him watch her. Then she turned, green eyes ablaze. “Tell me what you want, Madara.”

His face was cast in shadow as he leaned forward, his elbows leaning on his knees as his hair fell around his features and hid his expression. The silence hung in the air; she felt her heartbeat slow as he remained unresponsive and still. When she turned to leave, his voice emerged from the mass of dark hair. “Don’t. Not this time.”

Hesitantly, Sakura turned to Madara; her eyes softened then as she beheld his hunched form. She stepped forward, her fingers threading through his dark hair. She stood between his knees; her hands fell from his hair as he lifted his head, and her fingers splayed gently along the sides of his face. Her heart clenched in her chest as their eyes met, and she frowned; Madara watched her evenly for a long moment. She felt his gloved hands rest lightly on her back and she turned her face into his neck as she sighed into his warm skin. “Sometimes it all feels like an endless dream.”

“Hmm.” His rumble made her skin tingle where her face was pressed into his skin; she breathed him in. His hands tightened around her; she wound her arms around his shoulders. 

“Maybe we’re all just trapped in the Infinite Tsukuyomi and this is my ideal life.”

“Ideal life?” Madara’s fingers tightened around her sides as he watched the tattered Uchiha banner on the wall flutter behind her. “I stopped believing in the possibility of that a lifetime ago.”

“Perhaps it’s still possible,” Sakura said then, pulling back to look into his eyes, and he grew still beneath her as her meaning clicked in place. Her blood rushed to her cheeks as her heart thundered in her chest; Sakura then slowly moved out of his arms. 

Madara stared at her with wide eyes. Never had she seen him be speechless, and as her own words echoed in the space between them, she began to realize just how much she had just expressed in so few words. The words had come out of her lips before she had given conscious thought to it, and her heart was slamming to break free as she began to wonder what he would say in response.

“Think about it,” Sakura said, her eyes full of vivid color as she turned and walked quickly out of the room, running her hands through her hair.

The thoughts were so multiplicitous in her head that their pressure caused her a headache. Sakura stepped out of the longhouse, running her hands over her temples, and she turned to a curious-eyed guard that stood at the doors. “Tell him to come find me when he has his answer for me,” she said, knowing that multiple people could hear her words, and then she strode off and into the woods, calling Sarada’s name as she went. 


	4. public

Sarada and Sakura ran together silently for an hour through the woods before Sarada finally asked what was burning on her mind.

“Why?”

Sakura glanced at her daughter, brows drawn together, and then looked forward again as they ran. “Why what?”

“Why is he not with us?”

Sakura’s lips tightened, and Sarada knew she was pushing a sensitive topic, but she pressed further anyway. “You guys were --- you were happy, back there.”

Sakura’s face reddened and she kept her eyes forward. They slowed as Konoha came into view and Sarada pressed again. “Clearly you care for him a lot and it looked very mutual. Why did you never tell me until now? Why is he hiding out in the woods? How did he end up being my father, I thought he died in the war? How did you guys---”

"Sarada,” Sakura hissed as they walked within earshot of the gate, “No more questions. We’ll talk later.”

“But you said that last time,” she answered her mother softly as she followed her back into the village.

Sakura managed to maintain a pleasant demeanour as she and Sarada settled down with some of her friends at the outdoor table of one of the busier ramen restaurants. She could not help but to despair within herself. While Ino across from her launched into telling a raucous story to the group, Sakura closed her eyes and breathed for a moment in an effort to calm herself down.

The setting sun painted everything gold; the light shifted and shone pure from the skies that bled sienna-gold. She felt her heart dripping out from her chest and onto the table, mixing with the sunlight and melting her pain until it dripped through her entire being.

 _Why is he not with us?_ Sarada’s earlier question echoed in her mind, and as Sakura opened her eyes, she saw the question still there in her daughter’s frown. Sakura looked away, out at the main street that their table bordered. She remembered Madara’s stricken expression when she had hinted that perhaps they could have that ideal life, and she covered her face with her hands. _I embarrassed myself in front of him again. I’m such a fool._ Her fingers tightened as her skin heated. _Did I really think that Madara could change from what he used to be like, that he would give any thought to…_ She forced herself to think the word. _To settling._

Sakura snorted into her hands, and she felt Ino kick her with a boot under the table at the interruption of her ongoing story. Sakura sighed and ran her fingers up her face into her hair, her stomach nauseous from the way her heart wrung itself repeatedly, bleeding out more thoughts.

_Settling._

Is that what she had been implying? Sakura could feel his hand on her side again, remembered the battered banner drifting quietly against the far wall of the dark room. Madara had already lived several lifetimes and was somehow here again, now apparently without purpose. As far as she knew he had never settled, never for long, and had never bothered with domestic life. Sakura cringed deeper into herself, her chest hunching against the table. His stricken expression replayed again in her mind and she tried not to hunch so far that she became part of the table as she dared to wonder what he had thought she had meant. _I’m fool enough that I had his child. I should have known better than to go back and hope for more._ Her cringe deepened further and her nails dug into her scalp through her hair. _For kami’s sake he’s Madara Fucking Uchiha, what am I doing?_

She listened to Ino talking next to her then, desperate for a distraction. “And then Sai drew me like _that._ Yes… and guess what he added into the background? You should have…” Ino trailed off, and Sakura waited behind her hands that covered her face for what was next. A shocking joke too inappropriate for her twelve-year old to hear? A brag about her figure? She sighed against her hands, and the sound felt loud as the quiet spread around her.

The silence deepened, and Sakura heard a distant clinking of metal plates. Its sound was too distinct, too unforgettable, and her throat seized with her shock.

Slowly her hands slid down from her face, and Sakura’s eyes opened as her ears tingled with the sound. All eyes at the table were fixed on something behind her and she turned on the bench, her blood burning in her veins.

Red-painted metal armor plates scraped and tapped against each other as Madara Uchiha walked down the main Konoha street, black mane streaming out behind him, his figure glinting with the setting sun. His dark eyes swept around the streets, and anyone his gaze touched looked quickly down - except for Sakura, who held her eyes steadily to his as his gaze found her.

She got slowly to her feet as everyone’s attention shifted between her and Madara. She remained where she stood; he stopped a foot from her, dark eyes never moving from hers. All around them heads emerged from windows and doors, and like a forest of leaves cut from their branches, whispers rose from the village around them.

Madara extended an arm, and she took it, the smallest smile touching the corner of her mouth as her hand curled around his elbow. Wide eyes all around them blinked with increasing shock as they walked together down the street, the whispers around the pair turning to hushed, urgent talking. Sarada tentatively followed them several feet behind, watching how the village around them was bristling with shock. She could feel the vibes of fear and panic that were beginning to rise, and she was uneasy from the eyes that moved between Sakura and Madara to her.

They walked down the street toward Sakura’s home. Sarada thought she saw an envoy of anbu guards flitting over the rooftops toward the Hokage tower, and she knew that the entire village was already hearing about this. When they reached the little house, the dying light flashing off Madara’s armor, Sakura shifted to face him.

He bent forward, looming over her, and his hair curtained their faces. Sarada looked away and she saw a group of Hidden Leaf nin approaching them. Sarada coughed in warning but they had already ended their moment, looking toward the group as Madara moved an arm around Sakura’s side. They watched calmly as the group slowed about fifty feet out, moving cautiously closer, and Sarada spotted some familiar faces -- Naruto, Kakashi, Sasuke, even Tsunade. They were tensed as if ready for a fight and Sarada swallowed as fear prickled through her.

“Sarada,” and she turned at the sound of her mother’s voice, “You should go in the house. We won’t be long.”

She nodded eagerly and ran toward the house, peeking out from one of the windows as she watched.

Sakura’s hand drew up along Madara’s side as the group approached, and she could feel how relaxed he was at the approach of her comrades. She was still processing his very public approach, and didn’t know what she would say to them; she glanced up at Madara. He watched her comrades stop a few feet from them with a mildly bored expression, his gloved hand light on Sakura’s waist.

“Madara Uchiha,” spat Tsunade as she stepped forward. “What the _hell_ are you doing? How the _hell_ are you alive?”

“I was simply enjoying an evening stroll with Sakura,” he stated, dropping any kind of honorific from her name. Her fingers tightened in the fabric along his waist as she watched the people she loved process how much that in itself said about their intimacy as Madara continued. His eye that was not covered by his wild black mane shifted tiredly across the group. “Hmm. I’ve met you all before. You, the Senju descendant; you, the jinchūriki... Hmm. Hatake Kakashi, formerly of the Sharingan.” He smiled slightly, dark eye flashing; Sakura winced, remembering that Madara was the one who had stolen that Sharingan many years before.

Then his attention moved finally to Sasuke. “Ahh. ‘The Last Uchiha.’” The irony of Madara’s last comment rippled through all of them, and Sakura’s face burned another shade of red.

“Get your hands off of her!” Naruto shouted, barely held back by Sasuke and Kakashi. Madara raised a brow and tightened his hold on Sakura. She coughed as she prepared to speak, and sweat beaded on her forehead as all eyes shifted to her. “I… he’s fine,” she explained lamely, her face turning red. “He’s not gonna… you know… kill everyone.”

There was a pause, and then she coughed uncomfortably again. “And, I, uh, he’s right that we were just… Just walking, and we can all talk later!”

She burned redder as Madara’s amused eye blinked down at her; his gloved hand squeezed her side and she resisted the urge to bury her face in his shoulder to hide from the slack-jawed stares around her. All eyes were on his hand, and then on her; then at the way they were standing close together, her barely hidden fingers splayed on his lower back. 

Kakashi was the quickest mind among them and she saw his face grow pale; his gaze flicked to Sarada’s distant face that was pressed up against the window. Sakura gave him a subtle beseeching look, knowing he was the best at reading and understanding her slightest expressions, and he looked away from her. He did not enlighten the group around them of what he had just learned, and she felt grateful and guilty at the same time.

“Come,” Madara said to her then, turning them both as they moved away from the tense group and toward the house. 

“Sakura,” came Tsunade’s thundering tone, and Sakura tensed as she glanced back from Madara’s side to look at her. “Do you have _any_ idea who this man is? Do you know what you are _doing?”_

“Yes,” she said softly, and she kept her trembling hand on Madara’s back that was now visible to everyone as she pushed open her front door and entered the house, the door swinging shut behind her and Madara with finality.

Her breath was shaky as she let out a long exhale and looked up at him. “That was rough.”

“Really? I thought it went fine.” He lowered his smirk to her cheek and lifted his hand to her face a moment before turning toward the kitchen and looking around, metal plates of his armor scraping as he did so.

She shrugged off her pouch and tried not to think about that promised future talk with her teammates and mentors as she took off her shoes and stepped into the kitchen, soothing her nerves with the familiar routine of making tea. She kept her eye on Madara as he looked around, bored eyes sweeping over the immaculate surfaces and occasional vases of flowers from Ino’s shop. He reached out and picked up a discarded brown package from the trash can, curious fingers drawing out the kit inside it and reading the slip of paper that he found within it. They both heard Sarada squeak from a different room as she saw Madara discover the DNA testing kit, and she ran over to him. “Wait! Don’t…”

He regarded the girl with a mildly amused expression. “Yes?”

She blushed and looked away. “Too late, I guess. It’s nothing you didn’t already know now.” She ran upstairs, and Sakura shook her head as she poured tea into two cups. “That’s how she found out,” she commented, handing Madara a cup. He _hmm_ ed at the test results slip, slipping it into his pocket, and together they moved into the living room. He sat down in the armchair, armor clinking loudly, and took a sip. He looked at her with a slightly tilted head and Sakura tried not to laugh at the absurd image of the fully-armored Madara leaning in her armchair that barely fit his large frame. “It’s what tipped her off that Sasuke’s not her dad. It doesn’t obviously say that it’s _you,_ just that it’s not him.”

Madara rolled his eye, draining his cup and setting it down. “Yes, I gathered that. But what inspired her to test the theory?”

Sakura tapped her mouth with a hand. “I’m not sure. I’m fairly certain it is just a trend among kids right now.”

There was a smirk at Madara’s lips then and he leaned back in the chair, arms stretching behind his head. “Well you certainly won’t be the only parent having hard talks with their kids then. You’re not the only one in this village with secrets.”

Their eyes met as he said this and she swallowed. Now came the hard conversation indeed. “Madara,” she began, taking in a breath and gathering her courage, “I’m sorry I… ran off, all those years ago. I know I should have told you about her so much sooner.” She closed her eyes, a sigh exhaling from her nose, and he was silent beside her as he awaited the rest of her thought, which came out of her lips barely above a murmur. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid?”

She looked at Madara. He had leaned forward and was as relaxed as ever, watching her over folded hands. “Why? I’ve never seen you fear me.”

A warm memory bloomed from within her depths. She knew he was referring to her bold hostility and refusal to run on the night they had met again; the recalled memory nestled into her head, whispering heat into her ears and sinking through her body slowly. She had indeed shown no fear then, and her mind replayed in a flash how her fear had unfolded into passion. She had run at him without fear during the war as well though that had not resulted in Sarada.

Sakura shivered slightly and raised a hand to tuck her hair behind her now-reddened ear. She looked away from him again, gathering her thoughts back up. “That’s true, but that was before I realized I was pregnant. I know you, Madara, but not so well that I could predict your reaction to being surprised with a child.” She moved her hand to cover her eyes. “And I didn’t think you would find our three-day dalliance meaningful enough to take me seriously anyway.”

“Hn.” Sakura moved a finger aside to peek at him. He was leaning on an elbow, looking out at the unlit fireplace. She wanted to reach out, but she felt too vulnerable now. “What… what is your answer, Madara?”

The dark eye slid back to her, and she leaned forward on her knees, letting her hand fall from her eyes. She waited with a pounding heart, her tea growing cold on the table, pulse racing faster for each second he did not reply.

“I thought you already knew.”

She swallowed. “Well…”

“You women always need us to spell things out that are already so clear.”

Sakura almost spit out the tea that she was finally taking a sip of and shot him a glare. “Excuse me?”

“I mean that I already gave you my answer, Sakura.” Madara examined the teacup tiredly and then regarded her with a grim expression. “Was announcing my presence to the entirety of Konoha with you on my arm not enough?”

Sakura smiled slightly, looking out the window at the quietly shifting night woods. Her mind would replay the image of him approaching her for all the world to see forever. “It was, and it was a spectacular way for you to scare the living hell out of everyone in Konoha.” She eyed him playfully then, and Madara’s eye crinkled slightly; she felt her chest clench unexpectedly and she got to her feet, taking their empty cups and moving with silent bare feet into the kitchen. She needed a moment to clear her head before she said anything more.

Sakura’s green eye settled on the wild black mass of hair running down from the armchair, its ends brushing along the floor. _What do I want?_ she asked herself.

As for what she needed, she already knew. _Sarada needs a father in her life._ Her eyes touched dubiously along his red-plated armor, and then back to her cups in her hands as she washed them in the sink. _Even if he won’t know what he’s doing for a while._ Sakura was mildly horrified at herself as she recalled what she’d learned as a girl in school about Madara Uchiha- he had never had a wife or children, and no public lovers that were ever recorded. As far as Sakura knew, Sarada was his first direct descendant.

She felt an odd glow of pride as she set the clean cups on the rack and dried her hands. It skewed into a thought that made her ears heat, and she heard Ino in her head teasing her already. _You bedded an old man, even though he’s a badass._ She covered her face and tried to shove her best friend out of her head, but she was insistent. _Sarada’s the first kid of one of the world’s strongest and most terrifying shinobi of all time, and as if that’s not enough, she’s_ your _kid as well. She’s going to be freakishly strong someday._ Sakura froze at the word _first_ as it plunked again through her mind.

“You think too much,” she heard Madara in the living room, and Sakura’s mental Ino dissipated as she turned with a blush to see him getting to his feet. His hulking form nearly brushed the ceiling as he walked up to her in the kitchen, a gloved hand taking her chin and tilting her face to look up at him. “Don’t hurt yourself with all that _pondering_.” His black iris gleamed, and she moved her hand over his on her chin, feeling her apprehensions melting away.

“You don’t think enough,” she muttered then as he dropped a kiss to her jaw; she quickly felt her thoughts fluttering out the window as his other hand slid along her waist, her nose filling with his familiar warm scents of wood-ash and spices that mixed with the steel tang of his armor. “Hmm. Now that’s not true.” Madara pressed her against the counter and Sakura gripped his collar, her blood pulsing from his rumbling tone, trying not to lose her will to finish their conversation verbally as she looked with a serious frown into his face. “Tell me what we’re going to do,” she said then, green eyes challenging him.

He raised a brow and then sighed, knowing she was not referring to the immediate present, but the future. “What was it I said about spelling things out to you, dear?” She reddened at the unexpected term of endearment, but didn’t look away from him, making it clear that she wanted to know.

“Well, we’re not going to live here.” Madara sent a bored glance around the small house and Sakura’s face grew slack as he continued. “Obviously the Uchiha compound. I’d imagine it won’t take long to make those and a few other arrangements. And I suppose we’ll have to address the issue of Konoha’s hostility toward me as well… but we’ll deal with that tomorrow.” He noticed her burning tomato-red face and raised his brows. “Are you all right?”

Sakura swallowed, rubbing at her cheek to rid herself of her blush unsuccessfully. “We… we what?”

Madara’s intense gaze was unwavering on her. “You heard me right.”

“But… but that would mean we…” Sakura shifted her feet from side to side and dashed her eyes to his collar where her hands gripped him loosely. Her hand shifted to his sides and her fingertips tingled. “... would wed?” Her heart thudded in her ears loud enough that she almost didn’t hear his responding rumble. “Well, naturally. Is that a problem?”

“Who are you?” She curled her arms around his body and pressed her burning face against his neck, his long hair shrouding her from the world around them. The way he had casually dropped such a heavy yet strangely liberating future into her mind had stunned her, and she took a moment to recover herself as she continued, appreciating again the way he was patient for her to catch up. “It’s… it’s not a problem.” Sakura smiled into the dark fabric of his collar. “Is that some kind of proposal? I’m surprised you want that after… what, four days being with me?”

“With twelve years between.” She felt his pointed nose bury in her hair. “I don’t find it surprising. My ambitions did not come fully to fruition the way that I had thought they would, and I didn’t think I’d get another chance at life like this.” The nose shifted and his hand came up to curl around her head. “I’ve had several lifetimes to decide what I do and do not want, Sakura. That, and having Sarada around speeds things up a bit.” 

Sakura pulled back to stare up at him; Madara’s small smile was wistful. She had no more words then; enough had been said. She pulled her hands up through his hair and tugged him down to her; she met no resistance, and their lips melded together. Her fingers wound through the tangled mane, her leg dragging up his side, and he lifted her onto the counter, gloved hands on her waist moving up to her jacket collar and tugging it aside to reveal her throat. He bent and placed a kiss at the hollow of her neck and she let out a shaky breath into his hair; Sakura’s eyes grew lidded as he moved his mouth along her shoulder and back up to her face. Then he pulled back, smirking at her expression; Sakura hopped off the counter with an embarrassed huff and then gently pushed him. Madara glanced over at the stairs, where they could hear Sarada humming in her bedroom; then he looked back at Sakura, shaking his head, and she buried her face in her hands.

“There will be many benefits to living in a larger home.” His hand patted condescendingly on her shoulder and Sakura glared at Madara. “Tease.”

His smirk remained as he shifted toward the stairs, one hand reaching backward for Sakura to take. She slipped her fingers through his and allowed herself to be led upstairs and down the hall to her own room, and she closed the door behind them. Then she reached out and pulled Madara back to her, her nimble fingers removing each piece of his armor. He shrugged them off and then turned toward the bed, regarding it with a moody expression. Sakura snorted as she slipped into the covers, amused at his silent judgement of the small mattress.

“I won’t fit in this tiny bed,” Madara griped as he settled in behind her, pulling the comforter over them both; it covered perhaps two-thirds of him, long legs sticking out over the end of the bed and his mass of hair covering her like a blanket in itself. Sakura turned over and nestled herself into his side, shifting aside a lock of his hair from her face so she could see him. “You’ll live.”

Madara’s lips pressed together in an expression of skin-deep annoyance at the irony in her words, and Sakura smiled into his skin as he pulled her against his side. Sleep came for her softly; as she let the darkness overtake her completely, she felt the years between the present and the last time they had laid like this melt away and entwine as she fell asleep in his arms.


	5. foundations

_thirteen years ago_

_The bowed heads rose and fell, hands outstretched on the ground of the dark and cavernous room. There was a low, shared hum that reverberated between the dark-clad figures that were symmetrically aligned in a circle. Smoke oozed through the air above them in thin silver wisps, drawing the scents of hot candle wax through their lungs and their spirits. Together, the voices chanted the name, over and over, deep and worshipful._

_As a slight breeze drew directionlessly through the room, curling and scattering the wisps, the worshippers sat back and beheld the very deity they called to appear in a shimmering visage before them. As their eyes widened with shock and reverent fear, they dashed themselves back to the ground in a deep bow._

_The Sage of Six Paths, Hagaromo, regarded the worshippers with a benevolent expression, smiling slightly. His voice moved through their hearts as well as their ears as he spoke. “I entrust to you this burden that I have brought here. It seems,” he said, drawing back so they could see a slumped shadow near where Hagaromo stood, “that it is yet still not his time to rest eternally.” He bent, a hand resting lightly on the shadow’s side; there was a whisper of dark clothes as the curious eyes of all in the room looked to the figure. Hagaromo’s Rinnegan gaze was kindly as he stood back up to where he had appeared. His voice resounded in the cavernous room, and the figures bowed their heads once more. “One more life to live.” The candles flickered; the smoke rose, and the shadow at his feet twitched slightly as they heard a heart begin to beat somewhere within the darkness._

_Then he closed his eyes, smiling. “Thank you all.”_

_The flames danced; with a sigh of the breeze and a spreading of warmth in the dark room, Hagaromo disappeared, and the shadow remained._

_There was a cough, then, as the shadow hunched and then stretched; long arms extended out, and dark eyes opened wide as he drew in a sharp breath. Madara blinked up at the wisps of smoke that hung above, then at the staring huddled figures around him. He looked at his hands, then at himself; it was the same living body that he had had at the war’s end, but without the pale face that had been etched on the side of his chest. Sitting up, his dark mane falling around his shoulders, he felt his blood flowing beneath his skin and his heart beating, the unmistakable vigor of life returned to his body. His frown deepened, his hands flexing in front of him. “Why… am I alive?”_

_present_

“It’s time.” Sakura was startled awake by his quiet voice beside her; Madara stood by the window, watching the darkness that stirred beyond the glass. “You’ve gotten as much sleep as you can; now they’ve come. It seems they have finished deliberating.”

She sat up with a start, mussed pink hair sticking out in every direction. “Who?”

“Hmm.” His dark eyes watched the street below. “I’m almost flattered. It looks like just about the entirety of the Leaf Anbu shinobi, as well as your jinchūriki Hokage and some others.” There was a telltale glint in his eye, and Sakura reached out, her fingers catching his sleeve as she pulled him away from the window. “Don’t fight them,” she said, tightening her grip.

“Do you think they’ll offer me that choice?” Madara settled his dark eye on her. “You may have seen that I’ve lived peacefully as of late, but that doesn’t mean that they will believe it is true or even possible.”

“But…” Sakura closed her eyes, sorrow etched beneath her eyes. She gave a great sigh; she knew he was right. It was going to be insurmountably difficult to convince anyone that Madara was not the ruthless, dangerous person he had always been. _Is he not?_ Her worried thoughts echoed until she voiced it.

“I know what we talked about, Madara. I know the future that you spoke of appears peaceful, but I do have to ask before we go and face them all. _Have_ you changed?”

“Does it matter if they attack me anyway?”

Sakura tried not to let her apprehension show as she tied up her hair. She wrangled the thick strands with a tie, nearly snapping the elastic as she forced it to sit half-tamed just above the back of her neck. “I won’t let it get to that point.”

Madara’s eye flashed as he turned to face her, dark mane shifting. “I do not need your protection.”

She glanced at him, unabashed by his sharp tone. “You do if you’re going to avoid killing everyone I love.”

He returned his frown to the window. “They are aware you’re awake. Better move quickly or you may need a new front door.” They could both feel the flaring chakra signatures outside the house, and Sakura felt sweat condensing in a sheen along her skin. But she kept her stare on him, knowing that he could feel it, and that he knew why she watched him with fierce eyes. “I don’t want to lie to you, Sakura.” Madara’s tired eyes closed. “And because of that, I won’t promise you that I’ve changed.”

Her heart twisted with his words. “So you’re telling me you might go out there and start another war?” _With his level of power, he could just wipe them out._ Her blood thundered as she tried not to imagine it.

Madara turned from the window. “It depends on what they do.”

“What do you mean?” Sakura put her hands on her hips, trying to hide the way her fear of the imminent standoff was making her tremble. His dark eyes were serious, almost wistful. “What do you think will happen once we go out there?”

Sakura’s resolve returned to her, then, when she saw the grim look in Madara’s gaze. She stepped toward him, her hands reaching out, and she gripped the fabric of his shirt; she pulled him down to lean over her. “You’re going to come with me and make a peaceful arrangement,” she said, green eyes fierce. “You’re going to use that wicked brain of yours and help me find a way to avoid violence. _Avoid_ violence.”

“Hn.” His fingers tapped on her back. “You had better,” she murmured into the warm fabric, willing herself not to cry. She felt him sigh into her hair as his arms pulled around her slender back. “Or what?” he rumbled, and she smiled into the fabric. “Or I’ll make you pay for it later.”

“Oh?” His fingers seeped through her hair and back. She smiled at his lightened tone regardless of the wringing anxiety in her heart, and gave him a gentle shove as she stepped back; Madara made a mock-expression of offense. Sakura folded her arms. "I'm sure it won't turn to violence. Just... Let me talk them down from whatever they've imagined, okay?"

At his assenting shrug, she turned and began to tug on her boots; his gaze touched on her warmly before he returned his attention to the commotion outside the window. _Something in him has changed since we were together all those years ago, some kind of decision he’s made._ She slipped her foot into the boot, biting her lips as she focused.

“They’re going to ask the same question I asked you back then, by the way,” Sakura said as she leaned her boot on the bed, pulling on the laces so they constricted around her feet more tightly. Madara shrugged and she eyed him for a moment. “You know… you never did tell me how you are alive.” _Just seduced me instead._ She managed this time to prevent her cheeks from coloring at the thought.

“That’s hardly a conversation for right now.”

“I’d rather learn it from you now, in here, while we aren’t in a standoff out there.” She tugged the laces into bows, pulling a little too hard; the knot was a condensed little ball she knew she was going to have to fight to undo later.

Madara raised a quizzical brow. “Do you think they aren’t listening in where we are now? You don’t have sound seals on this room.”

Sakura frowned, dropping the tied boot and lifting the other; she kept her troubled focus on the laces as she answered. “Will you ever tell me?”

“Yes.”

She paused, and her fingers were less brutal on the knots this time as she finished tying up her boots. Madara shifted forward and nodded toward the door; she let out a great sigh as she opened it and stepped into the hall. Though there was a glow in her chest from their conversations both from today and from the night before, she was not sure that such a peaceful idealist future was going to work out. Madara’s relaxed confidence gave her a shred of comfort, but she wasn’t completely soothed; she knew he was calm even when faced with imminent death. She began to tremble as he moved down the stairs past her; her fingers knocked on Sarada’s door, and she opened it quietly. Her daughter’s mussed head of black hair lifted from the blankets. “Sarada, you can stay home today. We have to go take care of things. Just chill, ok? Stay in the house.”

“Okay.” Sarada curled back into her pillow, and Sakura shut the door again.

She stepped gingerly down the stairs, running a hand over the sweat on the back of her neck. Her heart was beating harder, painfully, against her chest; she had to admit to herself that she was frightened. She had faced many terrible things in her life but never had she had to face such a mass confrontation with everyone she loved.

Madara awaited her by the door, fingers tapping on his arm, and she was pale in the face as she saw that he had donned the red armor again and was reminded of the conflict ahead.

His dark eye touched on her expression, then the door. She let a small measure of her terror show on her face and he blinked at her quietly. “You’ve faced the end of the world with less fear, Sakura.”

She exhaled softly with a twist about her lips. “Do you regret it?”

Madara’s shoulders tensed slightly; the metal plates scraped quietly as he looked over at her. “Do I regret what?”

“Well… the war. The people who died, everything that happened… Everything after.”

His frown deepened; the shadow that crossed his eye showed her the conflict there. The presence of warring emotions gave Sakura the comfort she was looking for, and she reached up then, her hand aligning along his jaw; she drew closer, the ferocity in her eyes tempering. Madara watched her carefully as he answered without responding to her touch. “Some of it.”

Sakura’s curiosity drove her to allow herself one more question. “What don’t you regret?”

She squeaked as she was suddenly pressed up against him, his arms around her back, and Madara’s breath was on warm on her ear as his head lowered and his cheek skimmed across hers. “You know that already.” His lips brushed her ear, and she closed her eyes as heat scoured beneath her skin where he was close.

Then as quickly as he had pulled her to him, he let her go, turning with finality to the door and pulling it open; Sakura stared after him as he stepped through it, glancing back at her. She made no more hesitation as she caught up with him, tabling the rest for later.

Sakura and Madara stepped out into the twilight, the color washed from their forms as the dim half-moon gazed down coldly upon the clearing outside her house. There were many different figures in the darkness around them, some unmoving and some stepping back at the pair’s emergence from the door. Their eyes focused in tandem on the first to step out and face them; his blue eyes pierced Sakura as he lifted his head. “Why?” was all he said, and Sakura blinked back at Naruto, her brows drawing together in a frown.

She didn’t answer, choosing instead to step forward, her hand reaching out to her friend - but Naruto flinched away from her touch, white Hokage robe flickering around his sides. “What did he do to you?” 

Madara’s red eyes were forebodingly watchful of every movement Naruto made as Sakura retracted her hand, her frown deepening into a grimace. “He didn’t do anything to me, you idiot.” She stepped back to stand by Madara once more as she folded her arms. “Why did you have to bring the entire elite force, Naruto?”

“Because of him.” Naruto nodded toward Madara. Sakura tried not to feel the countless pairs of eyes that were watching them from all directions, and she clenched her teeth in frustration. “What do you want from us, Naruto?”

“‘Us’?” Naruto stamped his foot and pointed at Madara. “Sakura, what could you possibly want from _him_? Is he manipulating you somehow?”

“No.” She folded her arms, her rising anger implicit in her tone. “Both his and my intentions are nothing but peaceful. Take your hordes of Anbu and let us be.”

“You keep saying _us._ ” Naruto glared up at Madara. “Have you forgotten what he’s like? He must have used some sort of jutsu and purged your mind of the war, and then he forced you into… whatever this is. That’s the only explanation I can come up with here.”

Madara’s pale face tilted up in the gray light, his red iris glinting with a reflection of the waning moon. “Watch your tongue, jinchūriki.”

Naruto seethed, his aura beginning to burn, and as Sakura’s fingers gripped her arms where they were folded tightly against her chest, Madara raised a slim brow. “No one here wants a fifth war, but there will be one if you keep acting like a careless brat.”

There was a hushed murmur in the darkness around them at this blatant insult to the Hokage’s face. Naruto’s face twisted and he stepped forward with a fist in the air. “What did you just call me?”

Madara leaned in, looming, his dark hair shifting over his armor-plated shoulders. “You didn’t defeat me then; you won’t defeat me now.” His dark-gloved hand curled around Sakura’s shoulder as he pulled her closer against his side, a possessive gleam in his eye.

Naruto’s aura flamed in a glow around him. “Yeah? You think so? Whatever you did to Sakura, I’m gonna make you pay for it.” Naruto shifted his feet into a defensive stance, and Sakura stepped between them. She was icily calm, though her facade of coolness was cracking around the edges. “Stop. Both of you.”

As Madara’s eyes flicked to Sakura, Naruto’s chakra flared ever larger; the trees groaned in the sky around them and the wind whipped through the leaves. Their onlookers were backing away, eyes affixed on the inevitable fight. Naruto stepped forward again, and Sakura shoved him back. “He didn’t do anything, Naruto, now back off.” Her chakra began to burn around her form, and then Naruto turned his rage-wrought expression toward Madara, who was smirking as he watched Sakura’s green energy begin to flare outward. This made something snap in Naruto, and with a roar, he threw his fist at Madara.

There was a blinding flash of surging chakra that thundered through the ground and turned the world white for a moment. The earth groaned and shuddered; chunks of earth and wood and rock flew through the air as the ground fell away into a deep crater.

Sakura lifted her steaming fist from the earth, getting to her feet and turning her deadly eyes to Naruto.

Behind her, Madara landed on his feet, black hair streaming down to settle around him; he looked up at Sakura with widened pupils before turning his attention back to Naruto ahead of her.

“Why won’t you listen to me?” Sakura’s fist flared again. “Why do you never listen?” She stepped toward Naruto, and several masked Anbu landed behind and in front of him, their blades and eyes glinting. Naruto winced at her fury but persisted, his aura still a flaring white-yellow as he moved with the Anbu toward her. “Because you’re obviously under some sort of jutsu or other manipulation of his. You’re not gonna like this, Sakura-chan,” he said as another squad of Anbu approached from the darkness, “but we have to make sure he didn’t implant a tag in you or something like he did to Obito, so we’re going to have to get you looked at.” Sakura’s eyes flicked between the approaching masked men and then gave Naruto a withering look of fury. “I will take them all down, Naruto, before I let anyone take me away - and I don’t want to hurt them. Call them off.”

Naruto’s lips tightened, but he said nothing as the Anbu inched closer. Sakura’s fist clenched and she bristled. “I said, _call them off._ ”

His blue eyes were watering now as he stepped back. “I’m sorry, Sakura-chan, but this is how it has to be. I can’t trust that you aren’t being manipulated, and I know now that you won’t come voluntarily.”

“Oh _dammit,_ ” she hissed as she dodged an oncoming Anbu; she rolled to the side, her lighting-fast movements dodging every kick and grab of the oncoming attackers. She knew they were trying to subdue her without causing serious injury - she flipped backward and then dodged beneath as several more Anbu charged at her. She sent a kick upward that sent one masked attacker rolling backward, and she clenched her teeth with guilt. Sakura swerved and hissed in pain as one sliced a shallow gash across her side with their blade; she heard Naruto’s angry cry as her blood sprayed in the air and she stumbled, her hand gripping her side where she was wounded.

The ground thundered again as a different chakra flared in the crater. Its dark surge made the Anbu flit away from Sakura, and all eyes turned to Madara as he moved toward her. His face was yet still imperiously calm. The sinister surge of his power made all but her cringe backward as he held out a gloved hand to Sakura. Accepting his hand and grimacing as she got to her feet, she gripped her side as she used her glowing emerald chakra; it flowed through the wound, and it sealed after a moment. Madara’s dark eye touched on the scar marring her skin and then out at the Anbu who stood uncertainly around them. At the slow narrowing of his gaze, they synchronously took a step back.

_A shimmer in the air, a cry; the gut-piercing sound of a slice through cloth and flesh. Darkness shrouding a limp figure beneath a sheet; Izuna’s dying breath an eternal echo as Madara bowed his head over his body._

Sakura reached out and clasped his arm with a hand. “Don’t,” she murmured. “I’m all right.”

Then the Anbu advanced again, their weapons drawn; from the lip of the crater, Naruto watched with troubled eyes. Madara pulled Sakura to his side, his Mangekyō Sharingans spinning dangerously as he watched their approach. “Stop this, Naruto!” Sakura called from his side, “Don’t bring this to more violence. Let’s work this out!”

A wolf-masked Anbu darted forward with his blade; several more followed, and then with a roaring of wind around their forms, Madara signed and pressed his palms together; with a thundering and raging of blue light, the ethereal gigantic figure of Susanoo erupted from the ground beneath them and tore into the sky. She held on tightly to Madara as he stared calmly out, his red eyes piercing; the Anbu retreated further and scattered into the trees, masked faces glancing upward. The onlookers in the darkness of the surrounding street began to run backward from the display of power that made the ground groan and the air itself shudder around them. The mighty multiple arms of the glaring giant above them gripped swords as long as houses, sparking with searing energy, and it raised up its arms with a roar.

Then Sakura turned to Madara, pressing her face into his chest; she whispered something only the two of them could hear, and the gigantic Susanoo above them paused where it was about to bring down its shimmering blades into the crowd. 

His brows drew together as he blinked down at her; his gloved hand lifted slowly to the side of her face. Beyond them, Naruto and the remaining onlookers and Anbu slowed as they watched the moment unfold; their hearts stopped as they stared at the frozen Susanoo that towered over them from where Madara and Sakura stood.

There was a great shudder as the towering ethereal giant above them slowly collapsed into a cloud of steam that covered the crater and all of the land around it. A hush filled the night air in its resounding absence.

There was a stricken look on Madara’s face as his Sharingans deactivated, returning his eyes to their ebony color; Sakura looked up at him with an unwavering intensity. The mass of black hair fell slowly around his shoulders as the final azure shimmers of the Susanoo faded away around them.

She tipped her head into Madara’s chest and he closed his eyes with a quiet exhale. The hush around them spread; for a long moment, they simply breathed as the dust and mist settled around them.

Quiet crunching on the earth caused them to turn their heads, their respective black and emerald eyes opening; Naruto stood before them. He waved away the Anbu who retreated back into the shadows and left them alone in the clearing of the crater.

“Sakura-chan.” His blue eyes were gentler now.

She looked back at Madara before she answered Naruto, her green gaze lingering on him a moment before she slipped from his arms and turned to approach her friend. When she opened her arms to him, Naruto crashed forward, squeezing her tightly in a hug. When she pulled back, her cheeks were glistening in the gray light of dawn. “Will you listen to me?”

With a blink, he stepped back as she rejoined Madara’s side. “Yes. I’m… I’m sorry they hurt you, are you all right?”

When Sakura nodded, he turned his attention to Madara with raised brows. “So. You have changed, old man.”

Sakura reached out toward Naruto with a slapping hand and a red face. “Naruto, I swear--”

“So I’ll listen to you guys about working something out.” He dodged her slaps as she heaved a sigh, glancing at the crater around them. “You might have just agreed sooner and avoided destruction, idiot.”

“I’ve never seen _him_ back down from an attack. Not like that.” Naruto was eyeing Madara again, whose dark stare was shadowed and unreadable. Sakura leaned back into his shoulder, closing her eyes a moment; she then glared out at Naruto. “You should have called them off earlier. I didn’t want there to be any violence at all today.”

“Well, thankfully… It was mostly avoided anyway.” Naruto gave her a small smile. “But I think granny Tsunade is still going to insist on taking a look at you, to be certain still that there’s nothing like a curse or anything…” Sakura growled, and he insisted further, waving his hands placatingly. “But, but. You guys can work that out later.” Naruto glanced to the side, and Sakura winced at the thought of facing Tsunade again. He folded his arms, his short blonde hair drifting in the slow breeze as he spoke then, more solemnly. “So… I’m listening now. What’s going on?”

Sakura was startled by Madara’s rumble behind her. “I’m taking over as head of the Uchiha clan.”

Naruto’s blue eyes widened. “What?”

Sakura swallowed, feeling curious stares emerging again from the surrounding night. The twilight was lightening; they could feel dawn beginning to rise. As Sakura’s hand snuck back to grip Madara’s arm, her apprehension of this talk rising again, Naruto’s wide-eyed stare touched on her hand on his arm and back to her face. “And Sakura-chan…?”

Sakura’s blush was his answer as she ran a hand through her hair, looking away. “I’m joining him.”

“Woah.” Naruto looked almost dizzy with the information. “That’s… Well, what about Sasuke? Isn’t he technically the head of the clan?”

Sakura snorted. “Please. He’s never around. Not to mention that the Uchiha compound has been abandoned for years now. I’d hardly consider him the head of anything but wandering.”

Naruto leaned in, his eyes somehow even wider. “So you’re gonna _move in_ with _Madara Uchiha_ there? Man, what _happened_ , Sakura-chan? Where’d you even dig him up, he looks so alive.” Naruto’s gaze flicked back to Madara, who was narrowing his eyes at him as he spoke. “I guess I just don’t understand where this - or he - came from.”

“Look, I don’t expect you to,” Sakura said, running a hand through her hair. “I just want you to leave us be and let me figure out manners without Anbu squads following us everywhere.”

Naruto pinched his face with guilt and Sakura glowered at him. “He’s dangerous, Sakura. Like world-class criminal kind of dangerous. You can hardly blame me.”

“You all keep trying to tell me who Madara is when I already know - at least, better than you do.” Sakura’s hand curled into Madara’s arm, and he _hmm_ ed beside her, looking off toward the approaching dawn.

A playful smirk quirked Naruto’s mouth. “Oh, I mean, I don’t think anyone here wants to ‘know’ him the way you seem to, Sakura.” He jumped away from Sakura’s swatting hand and the negative tension in the air between them lightened a little. “You really have a thing for Sharingans,” he went on, and Sakura’s swatting increased in speed as her face flushed, “I mean, you’ve got _this_ guy, and then there was Sasuke for a little while, and even that one time with ----”

“NARUTO!” She lashed out her fist and grazed the side of his head; he laughed at her physical attempts to shut him up, rubbing at the light bruise on his cheek. “All right, I’ll think about it,” he said then, “but I don’t think Sasuke will take very well to this.” He glanced up at the lip of the crater where watching onlookers stirred. “If you can convince him, then I guess I’ll… consider it. Though I don’t think I can convince the Anbu commander to fully swear off tailing him.” He cast narrowed blue eyes at Madara. “I’m basing my considerations on today, on Sakura tempering you like she seems to. Don’t think I’ve forgotten the past or all the terrible things you have done. Even if you do seek redemption in Konoha, it won’t be easy.”

Sakura felt Madara’s arm tense. “Don’t think I won’t crush you if something like that happens again.” His eyes flicked to the healed gash on Sakura’s side, and Naruto glowered back at him. “I could say the same to you. If she gets hurt, I’ll make sure you’re dead this time.”

“Okay, boys,” Sakura waved her arms between them as she tugged Madara with her, “That’s enough. We’ll talk out the details more later.”

“By the way Sakura-chan,” Naruto said then, glancing up at the other edge of the crater, “Moving may not be such a bad idea…”

She followed his gaze, and Sakura gasped at the sight of her little house. It was at the very lip of the crater’s edge as she had accounted for with her finely-tuned punch to the earth, but there were chunks of siding and shingles torn from it from the blasts of chakra from their fight; steam curled down its edges, and debris covered the roof. A downed tree was groaning across its front side and threatening to collapse through.

“Dammit!” Sakura ran toward the house, Sarada’s face burning in her mind. She gripped the leaning tree, pushing its trunk back until it stood unsteadily on its splintered trunk. Then she swerved on quick feet and skidded to a halt as she reached the open door. Sasuke stood at the step, Sarada in one arm as he glared at her. “Come,” he said, jerking his head out toward the street. “We have to talk.”

Like a warm shadow twice her size, Madara moved beside Sakura where she faced Sasuke. She instinctively stepped closer to him at the piercing cold of Sasuke’s responding glare. “So. What exactly was your plan here, Sakura? Was it you who brought _this_ back?” He gestured dubiously at Madara. “Was it your plan to frighten the village and endanger all of us this way?”

“Sarada,” Sakura said, ignoring Sasuke and looking to her daughter, “Run along and find your friends. I’m sure they’re awake and training already.”

Sasuke’s arm around Sarada tightened. “No. She gets to hear this too.” Sarada squirmed uncomfortably at his side, her eyes dashed to her feet. She looked-half awake; her eyes glistened with traces of sleep and impending tears as she visibly held back her emotions.

Sakura turned a malice-filled eye to Sasuke. “Let her go.”

His white hand on her shoulder tightened, and Sarada winced; at this, Sasuke loosened his grip with a brief frown. She pulled away from him abruptly, moving back several paces; her conflicted eyes moved between Sakura, Madara, and Sasuke as she paused in her retreat. “What’s going on?” she asked timidly, and Sakura’s troubled frown turned to Sasuke. “We’ll talk later, Sarada.”

“But you always say that,” Sarada whispered, and she adjusted her red spectacles on her nose as a tear fell down her cheek, reflecting the light sepia color of the dawn. She backed away, both cheeks wet with her tears as she turned and ran toward Naruto where he walked with a small consort of Anbu down the street. With a grimace, Sakura settled her full attention on Sasuke. “Look, I know this is hard for everyone, and there’s a lot of questions, but we can deal with it later. I--”

Sasuke’s boot crunched in the dirt as he stepped forward, his lips curled in a snarl. “We’re dealing with this _now._ ” Sakura turned to him as he continued, her face cast in shadow. “Don’t you remember? He ran me through with a sword during the war and I would have died if it weren’t for Kabuto saving my life. Have you forgotten that this _demon_ tried to kill all of us?”

Sakura spat back at him with clenched fists. “If we’re holding everyone here accountable for their past actions, Sasuke, then might I remind you of when _you_ tried to kill _me,_ your teammate and friend? Or when you turned on us all after Kaguya’s defeat?” She stepped forward with one fist raised. “I haven’t forgotten the past. You may have changed for the better, but there’s a reason we haven’t been living in the same house for five years.”

Sasuke’s mouth twisted and he looked from her to Madara with a grimace. “So what, he is forgiven and I’m not? How does that work?”

“Because you were never supposed to be my enemy, Sasuke. You were supposed to be there for me then and all the years after that. You have no excuse.” She felt her chakra pulsing, her anger stirring her to fight again, and she fought back the urge at the pain in Sasuke’s eyes. Sakura lowered her fist. “Look, I… understand that this is hard. I do. But fighting will change nothing.”

Sasuke’s grimace turned to surprise etched with derision. “I don’t know what you’re playing at here or what sick plan he’s manipulated you into, but there’s no way I’m going to let him be the Uchiha clan head, and I’m going to make sure that you lose everything for this. Not just your status but Sarada too.”

Sakura’s rage flared, the deadliness returning to her vivid green eyes, and Sasuke tensed as she spat back at him. “Even if I _let_ you try that, Sasuke, she’s not yours to take.”

He blinked, backing up a step. “She’s… what?”

Sakura’s rage simmered into pain as she turned toward Madara, looking away from Sasuke. Madara’s dark eye glittered under the shadows of the trees in the dim dawn light as he moved a gloved hand to rest around the back of her head, watching Sasuke’s face morph into an expression of horror as he spoke with his fingers curling into her long pink strands. “So he doesn’t know.”

Silence filled the clearing after Madara’s quiet statement. The trees shifted in a growing breeze around them, leaves whispering. Broken branches creaked; the dust from the shattered ground swirled around their feet as the house behind Sasuke groaned quietly on its damaged foundations.

“What don’t I know, Sakura?” Sasuke managed through clenched teeth, and she gripped Madara’s arm as she turned her face to look back at Sasuke. She was wincing, feeling the pain splitting her apart from within. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Sarada was… she was never your daughter.” Her eyes closed softly and she could not continue as her throat tightened.

“Is that why?” Sasuke stepped forward, hand on his sword beneath his cloak, and she flinched closer to Madara’s side. Sasuke’s eyes burned red now, the black patterns in his irises spinning. “I was always a little confused at your quick pregnancy, Sakura, though I never thought to question it after she was born… To think that you… you and _Madara_?” His voice cracked on the name, disbelief jarring with the pain in his expression as his scarlet eyes moved between them. Sasuke’s hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly enough that his knuckles were white. “You bastard. And Sakura… you _used_ me to hide that she was his all along?”

“This is not a fight you’ll win, brat.” Madara’s dark timbre was edged. “I don’t intend to stand here and wait for you to figure it out. Learn to accept it and move on.” Madara stepped forward, and as he moved closely past Sasuke with Sakura on his arm, their crimson eyes met with clashing hatred. Black hair shifted in the breeze as Sasuke stood frozen where they had walked past him, and he was left staring unseeingly down at the DNA test results slip Madara had passed subtly into his palm as he and Sakura disappeared into the trees beyond the slowly crumbling house.


	6. resolve

Sakura glared moodily up at the fluorescent lights as Tsunade leaned over her, checking her heartbeat with a stethoscope while a blood-pressure gauge suctioned around her wrist. She felt her mentor’s cold fingers probing her belly, checking her limbs, examining her; the fingers dug in a little harder than necessary and there was an edge to her flat mouthed look of sternness as she went about making sure Sakura was healthy. She winced at the stab of her mentor’s nails as she checked her stomach, checked her chest area. Sakura had reluctantly agreed to be looked at on the contingency that she not be tailed anymore. She looked forward to escaping the unbearable tension in the room with Tsunade and returning to figuring out the rest of the day.

There was a silence among the beeping in the room, and she shifted uncomfortably on the exam table as she cleared her throat. “Satisfied?”

"I don’t get it,” Tsunade muttered as she set aside the stethoscope.

“What?” Sakura sat up, zipping up her jacket and shaking her hair out of her face as she looked over at Tsunade.

Her mentor’s coffee-colored eyes were piercing. “How did you end up _voluntarily_ being with him?”

Sakura’s green eyes widened a moment before a softness crept into her gaze and she looked to the side. “It’s… it’s a little complicated, shishou.” She sighed. “But I guess you haven’t heard.”

Tsunade folded her arms, her nails tapping along her arm. “Haven’t heard what.”

Sakura clenched her hands along her legs where she sat, looking away with pink rising to her cheeks. “Well… I uh…”

“That Sarada’s his child?”

Sakura jumped slightly, keeping her eyes fixed to the floor. “Yes.”

Tsunade let out a sigh, and then her hand curled gently around Sakura’s upper arm. Her tone was quiet. “Did he force himself on you?” Her fingers tightened. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

“No!” Sakura shook away the hand. “No, not at all.” She tried to relax the tightness in her features. “He’d never…”

“He’d never? Sakura-chan, again, I wonder if he hasn’t purged your memories. Considering all he’s done, I wouldn’t be surprised if --”

_“He would never.”_

Sakura’s eyes were burning then, fixed to her mentor’s face. Tsunade paused at the fire in her student’s eyes and then sat back with a sigh. “Tell me how it happened."

The fires in her eyes waned a moment before smoldering into a deeper heat. “Um… well, he was living out in a tiny settlement, out in the Land of Earth.” She looked away again as she remembered. “I came across it when I was looking for _calendula maritima…"_

“Ah. I remember asking you for that.” Tsunade glanced across the exam room, thoughtfulness creasing the lines between her brows. “And?”

“And… the villagers there asked me to leave. They were really secretive, kind of aggressive, had no visible symbols I could recognize. They asked me to talk to their leader, who turned out to be Madara, and… we talked.” Sakura’s blush deepened and Tsunade rolled her eyes. “Considering how things have turned out I’m sure you didn’t do much _talking._ ”

Sakura swatted at Tsunade, one hand covering her scarlet cheeks. “Shishou!”

Tsunade’s smile was half-wicked as she nodded for Sakura to continue. “So, you ‘talked,’ and it was voluntary.” She blinked as she shook her head with this information. “Were you drunk?”

“No.” Sakura turned a mauve color as her mentor leaned in with a confused stare. “You slept with him and you _weren’t_ drunk?”

“Well -- well, I was trying to learn more from him about why and how he was alive again, and what his plans were.”

“Did you learn those things?”

“I…” She buried her face in her hands. “Yes, some of it… We got kind of… sidetracked.”

Tsunade snorted, and Sakura’s shoulders tensed; she felt her mentor’s hand return to her arm, and she relaxed slightly. Sakura kept her red face hidden while her mentor mused aloud. “That’s very surprising.” Tsunade leaned back in her chair. “Seeing how ruthless he is according to his past, there’s no reason Madara would leave you alive after you recognized him. Even if he’d just used you for some _‘talking’_ for a bit, he’d still have finished you off or otherwise disabled you afterward to guard his secrets.” She tapped a pen against her teeth from her clipboard. “Or some sort of conditional tag, which I haven’t found on you.”

Sakura lifted her face from her hands, her brows drawn together as Tsunade continued, her fingers tapping against her face as she thought through what Sakura had said. “And then he just let you go?”

“I, well, I left. But yes, I suppose he did.”

“Why’d you leave? Did he not satisfy you enough?” Tsunade’s eyes gleamed, and Sakura huffed with embarrassment. “ _Shishou!_ No! I mean…” She covered her face again. “He did.”

Tsunade laughed then, her hands gripping the arms of her chair; Sakura hunched deeper into herself as Tsunade’s laughter bounced around the room. “Ah… if things get better around here you _have_ to tell me about how exactly all of that happened.” She wiped a tear away and then fixed Sakura with a more serious look. “So you had a one-night stand with Madara and ran home. Why didn’t you…” Her eyes flicked to Sakura’s lower stomach, and at this Sakura let out a quiet sigh. “It wasn’t a one-night stand.”

Tsunade fell silent; Sakura ran a hand over her abdomen as she spoke. “It was a bit more than three days that I stayed with Madara. I didn’t… I didn’t think to check, to make sure… I realized too late that I was with child.” Sakura rubbed her fingers under her tired eyes and let out a long sigh; the hand on her arm squeezed, and when she looked at Tsunade, she didn’t expect the look of shock and anger there.

“You stayed _three days_ and didn’t learn anything from him?!”

Sakura waggled her hands as she backed up on the table, her face tomato-red. “I was -- We were distracted --”

“Like hell you were!” Tsunade thundered, getting to her feet; Sakura shrank back on the table. “What were you _doing_ that you couldn’t find two minutes to ask?!”

Sakura’s green eyes flicked aside, her stomach warming at the memories, and she returned her gaze to Tsunade with trepidation.

“Foolish girl.” Tsunade’s fists gripped at her sides. “I should knock you into the next stratosphere for how you handled all of that with him. And you _still_ don’t know how he’s alive and well? He just knocked you up and you left each other alone… for what, how old is Sarada? Twelve years?”

“Yep.” Sakura gave a deep sigh, her shoulders slumping. 

“And you knew he was out there, alive, well, as powerful as before, and you _didn’t tell anyone._ ”

She slumped further, covering her head. “He promised not to attack or plot against Konoha. I promised to not mention to anyone that he’s alive.”

_“What?”_

Sakura’s fingers wrung through her hair; her skin tingled where she expected Tsunade to hit her. “Yes, that was the deal we made… before you kill me, shishou, I want to point out that not only did he make that deal with me, but he kept up his end of the agreement and stayed living there peacefully. No harm has befallen us from him in all those years. And… if it weren’t for Sarada, maybe I would have told someone about him… but I wanted to protect her, and I…” She looked out at the medical tools and instruments, struggling to explain herself. She felt shame prickling her ears as her instincts stirred; she closed her eyes. “I feel stupid saying it aloud here and now but… I felt a connection with him.”

“A _connection._ How?” Tsunade’s voice was gentler, and Sakura looked up in time for Tsunade’s fist to punch into her shoulder; but the hit was light, and she was surprised at the emotion in her mentor’s face. “You idiot. He could have killed you, he could have started the fifth Shinobi war. He still could.”

“But he didn’t,” Sakura argued, her fire rising within her again. “He didn’t, and something in him has changed. I swear it, shishou. He’s not the man he was during the war and none of this would have happened this way if he was.”

“I did hear about his last words with my grandfather before his passing.” Tsunade gave a sigh. “And I witnessed what happened out there today. Speaking of…” She glanced down at Sakura. “How did he end up here, with you, demanding to be the Uchiha clan head again? What did you say to him to make him stop when he was about to go on a murderous rampage?”

Sakura’s lips twitched upward as she inhaled softly, her eyes closing with the memory; Tsunade’s brows drew together as she watched the way she visibly melted. Sakura gave no answer but to open her eyes with a troubled expression that she directed at the floor.

“You’ve really got it bad, don’t you,” Tsunade said then, concern etching her features.

Sakura nodded, resting her head on her hands with a dejected sigh.

“You and those Uchihas.” Tsunade shook her head as she stood back; Sakura got to her feet, looking up at her mentor uneasily. “I’m sorry, shishou. For all the trouble. And I know I should have talked to you about this sooner.”

“Years ago,” Tsunade agreed with narrowed eyes. “We’ll talk more, _especially_ before you consider becoming the Uchiha matriarch…” Sakura’s eyes widened at the term as Tsunade went on. “But, somehow, there’s no curse tags or foreign jutsus that I can find in your body. Just… far too much forgiveness and affection for someone who really doesn’t deserve it.” She folded her arms as Sakura shrugged her coat back on, the pink still staining her cheeks. “But might I remind you, Sakura.” She turned to look at Tsunade, blinking innocently.

“Madara Uchiha is my _grandfather’s_ enemy and comrade.” Tsunade repeated herself, slower, gesturing to herself - “ _My_ grandfather’s. I think the man is over a hundred years old at this point, give or take, and you--”

“Shishou!” Sakura stamped her foot indignantly, tugging the coat around herself. “He doesn’t _look_ that old.”

“True. It looks like he reincarnated in the fourth war to be around 30, which is what he looks like now. Is his current body the same as the one at the end of the war?”

Sakura bit her lip as she thought. “Yes, I think so.”

“Well you would know. You’ve apparently had plenty of time to examine him.” Tsunade rolled her eyes at Sakura’s blush. “So what’s your plan now?”

Sakura looked toward the door, a fresh determination in her eyes.

She pressed a hand to her lips as she pulled open the exam room door and left, her coat trailing out behind her. Tsunade shook her head as she watched her go, brown eyes full of warmth and concern.

As she pulled in a breath of the fresh air, Sakura felt her resolve settling deep within her core as she stepped out into the sun. She had never been questioned so fiercely or taken down piece by piece the way that Tsunade had done, both now and in the past, and found that not only had it not made her feel indecisive - it had made her feel stronger.

She knew this to her bones as she began to walk down the crowded Konoha street, her hair fluttering back behind her head and her long coat flaring around her figure. She felt more alive than she had in a long time as she took a sharp turn down a side street, her heart beating against her chest like a pendant in the open air. 

The questions had torn her open and then shown her what was truly within. Her embarrassment and shame had evolved into a strange new confidence that gave her the strength to keep walking as she approached the old and long-abandoned Uchiha district. _I will take this chance at a new life. I will face the conflict, and I will come through stronger. I will make this a fresh start: for his sake, for Sarada’s sake, and for my sake._

Sakura slowed her step to a respectful quiet walk through the silent street, her eyes tracing over the blank-faced buildings and empty windows; darkness sighed from the bent doors and lifeless homes. Once, she knew, it had been alight with sound and light, with faces and feeling, but now it was lifeless before her; it was dead since the night of the slaughter of the clan. She inclined her head as she walked, remembering the dead. Though she had been very young when it had happened, she had heard of it; and though her innocent child’s mind had not been able to comprehend it then, she could now. Her pulse slowed as she slowed her feet, and she found herself standing before the expansive ruins of the Naka temple.

Sakura’s eyes drew up the jagged remains of the ruins to see the lone figure that stood in its center, the sighing breeze from the abandoned compound rising and flickering through his long black mane.

She stopped where she had seen him, lifting a hand to her eyes; the sun glinted white-gold behind his silhouette as Madara turned to look at her. Though the sun’s glare obscured most of his features, she saw the trace of a smile beneath the mass of darkness around his face.


	7. trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Vague, past-hints of Kakasaku dynamics.

She had to call in some favors in order to get things moving; some of those favors were with senior jonin that she wasn’t close to, and so she needed someone who was to call in those requests for her. Which meant, Sakura thought as she swallowed her nervousness, she was going to have to face Kakashi.

She pushed open the door to the bar with trepidation. She was blasted with warm air filled with the scents of sake, sweat, body odor, and cheap ramen. She waved away the scents from her wrinkled nose and hung her head to try and stay inconspicuous as she made her way through the crowded seats toward the darker, slightly quieter back. Sakura had chosen this dive bar in the civilian district in order to keep some chance of anonymity - she had been getting all sorts of stares in the streets in the last several days, and she heard the endless whispers that rippled through the crowds. She and Madara had naturally become the gossip of Konoha and she found that it was nearly impossible to escape the scrutiny of everyone she knew, let alone the strangers as well. Choosing a dive bar in a sparser part of the civilian district was her best chance at having some sort of private conversation without questioning stares or interruptions.

She lifted her head slowly as she felt his familiar gaze on her, and her brows drew together as she met Kakashi’s eyes from across the bar. He was sitting alone in a dim booth, a drink already in hand, and he blinked slowly at her with an unreadable expression; she swallowed her rising apprehension and approached him. _Relax,_ she told herself, _he’s one of your closest comrades. This won’t be too hard._

She knew she was wrong as she slid across from him into the booth and met his dark eyes once more. There was an edge in his gaze that made her shrink back into the worn leather of the seat. “‘Kashi-sensei,” she greeted quietly, and he gripped the sake glass tighter in his gloved hand as he threw the rest of it back and set it aside. He leaned forward on his elbows and fixed her with his dark stare, and Sakura pressed further back into the seat, finding herself unable to look at him anymore.

“Sakura-chan.”

She stared at her knees, trying to keep her face neutral. “How are you?” she asked shakily, and managed to lift her eyes to his. She winced when he looked away, tilting his head into his hand as he leaned against his elbow. “How am I?” He closed his eyes as he exhaled softly. “We’re here to talk about you, not me.”

Sakura shifted uncomfortably where she sat. Already, she hated this. Where she and Kakashi’s bond had once been of the strongest she’d ever had, it was now one of the most frayed, and where it was still connected it was so taut with tension that she was terrified it would snap. Her hands lifted tentatively from her lap and rested on the rough wooden table as she tried to find the right words. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t…”

She closed her eyes, leaning forward and resting her head on her folded hands as she searched for the words. She decided to try and start as positively as she could. “Thank you for not telling everyone right away, when you figured it out about Sarada.”

“What?” Her eyes snapped open at his harsh tone, and she shrank back again at the indignance in Kakashi’s eyes. “You’re _thanking_ me, for _that_?” He shook his head, and she bit her lip as confusion blurred her thoughts, her hands falling limply to the table.

A waitress appeared at the table, and Sakura looked up at her with dull eyes. “Neat whiskey, whatever’s cheap, please,” she said, and the waitress nodded before disappearing once more. She found that her eyes were prickling dangerously and she gripped her fingers into fists as she turned to Kakashi with rising frustration. “Why are you so mad at me?” she hissed, “Why are you making this so much harder than it needs to be?”

“Because he _killed Obito,_ ” Kakashi spat back, his normally relaxed tone tight and angry. “Because he caused the events that forced me to kill Rin. Because he tried to kill you, and Gai, and Naruto, and Sasuke, as well as everyone else, and he very nearly did.” He leaned toward her, and Sakura held still where she was, keeping her fierce gaze on his. “Stop living in the past,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

At the sudden hurt in Kakashi’s eyes, she immediately relaxed her tight hold on the table’s edge. Sakura knew by the way he was tensed that he was about to leave and her hand darted out, gripping his arm. “Don’t go.”

His arm stiffened at her touch and she tightened her grasp, pulling his arm to her and taking his hand, running her other hand through her hair with her frustration as she beseeched him with her eyes. “Please. I’m sorry I said that.”

Kakashi blinked down at her hand that gripped his as if she were about to arm wrestle him and he sighed softly, turning in the booth to face her once more. The look of wistfulness on his face made him look all of his years for a moment before he let go of her hand, folding his arms. “Why shouldn’t I go, Sakura?” His dark gaze held hers.

“Because I still want you in my life,” she answered simply, her features pulled tightly together in her stress. “I know you. If you leave now, like this, you’ll avoid me forever. I can’t have that.” She rubbed her temples as a headache started to come on. “You’re one of the few who keeps me sane, Kakashi-sensei, and if you disappear too I think I’ll truly go mad.”

“I highly doubt we will be able to be close again, Sakura-chan,” he replied quietly as the waitress arrived with not one but two neat whiskeys. She set the glimmering glasses of liquid before the two of them and gave Sakura a kindly blink as she returned to the din of the bar.

At once, they took hold of the glasses and took a generous sip before their eyes returned to the others’. “Why do you say that?” Sakura asked, the lines between her brows deepening as she tapped her fingers along the side of her glass.

Kakashi snorted. “Do you think that he’d let you have a close male friend, especially once you’re…” He winced as he looked away a moment, and Sakura’s eyes widened as he returned his saddened dark eyes to her. “It simply won’t happen.”

Sakura sipped her whiskey again, frowning into it as she accepted the burn of it slipping down her throat. Her thoughts were stirring with old pain as she set the glass down and when she looked back at Kakashi there was a decided look in her eyes. “You’re staying as my comrade forever no matter what happens. I’m sorry that you…” She glanced down at the whiskey as she chose her words. “I’m sorry that you don’t approve. I know his past is terrible… but Naruto’s made me kind of a believer,” she went on, feeling silly as she admitted it. “People can and do change. Perhaps not their natures, really, but they can change their actions, their lifestyles.” A memory of affectionate warmth in Madara’s dark eyes drifted through her mind, sending that heat down her chest with the burn of the whiskey in her stomach. Green eyes met black as she finished. “He has changed.”

“He’s a possessive, manipulative, controlling, evil bastard and he always will be,” Kakashi spat, and Sakura’s eyes widened at his vehemence. She sat back in the booth as she stared at him, and he untensed slightly at her open shock. “This isn’t just about the people he’s hurt, is it?” Sakura asked, and Kakashi’s face grew carefully neutral as he responded. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sakura gave a great sigh through her nose as she closed her eyes. “‘Kashi-sensei…”

He winced. “You know, you can stop calling me that. I haven’t been your sensei in many years.”

Keeping her eyes closed, Sakura frowned at his words. “What do I call you?”

His responding sigh made her open her eyes. “Just Kakashi.” Her heart twisted and she took another swig of the whiskey, focusing on the feel of its burn as she tried to put her thoughts back on the path she wanted to follow. She reached out to Kakashi, taking his hand back and squeezing it lightly. “Please trust me.” Sakura searched his eyes, and he looked away as he answered. “He’s not going to change enough to be good to you, Sakura.”

Her fingers tightened around his palm. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you; I don’t trust Madara Uchiha, and I don’t see how you do.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about him changing for the better?” Sakura placed both of her hands over his. “I need you with me on this. I need you to be there for me.”

The pain in his expression made her blink with surprise once more, and she bowed her head, her face tightening. “Please, Kakashi.”

His hand slowly withdrew from hers, and she heard him swig back the whiskey, setting the glass down with a loud thunk. “Fine. But I’m only calling in those favors for your sake, not for his.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he paused; she fought back the tears. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“You already know,” Sakura said as she got to her feet, slapping several bills on the table. She gave Kakashi a wistful smile before she turned from him and fled the dim bar.

Sakura scrubbed the tears away from her cheeks as she walked away from the bar, letting the cool night air soothe her in its gentle rippling breeze as she walked. She pressed a hand to her chest and tried to ease the tightness there. She knew that the look in Kakashi’s eyes would haunt her for a long time, and that it would be even longer before things felt any sort of normal between them again. She clenched the fabric of her shirt with her frustration, another tear gliding softly down her face. She bowed her head, her light hair falling around her features, and she took in a slow breath of the cool leaf-musk air. 

She found, then, that she needed her other confidante. Sakura slipped her fingers into her pocket and took out the small new phone she had gotten; she’d changed her number to avoid unwelcome calls from curious strangers and acquaintances. She dialed the familiar digits, pressing the phone by her ear as she walked.

“Hello?”

“Ino.” Sakura’s relief was audible; already her shoulders were relaxing at the sound of her best friend’s voice. “I miss you, and I’m kind of a mess. Are you free to talk for a moment?”

“Yeah, I’m just finishing up at the flower shop. Want me to come find you?”

“That would be good.” Sakura took a tissue from her side-strapped pouch and wiped her nose.

“Oh, so you met with Kakashi,” Ino commented in her ear, and Sakura blinked at her friend’s immediate guess after hearing her sniff. She could not help but to smile slightly at how well she knew her. “Yeah. It was just as rough as I had imagined it would be, but he did agree to help me.”

“You should never have had that fling with him, Forehead,” Ino scolded her, and Sakura winced as she adjusted the phone against her ear. Her response was a whisper. “I know.”

“Poor old sensei. He had it bad for you _before_ that happened, and now, you’re dating like… his worst enemy.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Pig.”

“Then what did you call for? Who else are you gonna vent to about your love life?”

Sakura sighed. “By the way, I’m just walking home from the dive in the civilian district. I’m about to turn onto the main road.”

“I’m heading out now. I’ll be there in a few.” The phone beeped as Ino hung up, and Sakura shoved the phone back into her pocket, lifting her head to breathe in the air. The smell of leaf musk was strong now that fall was approaching; the colors of the many leaves on the trees surrounding the village had just begun to bleed into red and orange. 

Her mind wandered away from her conversations with Kakashi and Ino, whispering ahead through the quiet buildings and across town to her weary house in the distance. She hoped that Sarada had not had as rough a day as Sakura had had. Though her closest friends had remained loyal to her, Sarada had inevitably been the center of attention during classes as of late after the events of Madara’s return to Konoha and the spreading truth that he was her biological father. She had become even a little feared because of this. Sakura bowed her head as she felt the tears coming on. This was all a lot harder than she could have expected, and she found herself looking forward to burying herself into Madara’s side and drowning herself in sleep.

Her head spun with her stress, and she felt like she was about to burst into tears; as she reached the brink, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and Sakura jerked her head to the side to see Ino walking with her with sympathetic eyes. “Oh, Sakura-chan.” Ino forewent the nicknames and put her arm around her, shaking her head. They walked together down the quiet road, and Sakura leaned into her side. 

Her best friend had been uncharacteristically light on teasing her about her dramatic new relationship since it had become public. Ino had been her listening ear in the last several days, absorbing all the stress from Sakura, who didn’t know what she would do without her.

The quiet was broken when Ino finally spoke; they were halfway to Sakura’s home. “So. What exactly did you need that you had to talk to Kakashi?”

“Yamato-taichou,” Sakura answered, rubbing her eyes. “His wood-style could rebuild all of the Uchiha district in five minutes. But… as much as I get along with him, I don’t know him well enough to dare to ask him for that big a favor.” She tilted her head back, looking up at the stars above them. “But he would do anything for Kakashi. You know how they’re good friends.”

Ino nodded, her concerned eyes remaining on Sakura as they walked. “How are you holding up?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m going to split apart,” Sakura admitted, frowning up at the constellations. “It’s especially hard what with being the village gossip. I think the rumors will never cease.”

“I mean… you’re in the very least dating one of the original Konoha founders after he nearly killed us all in a war that he started.” Ino rolled her eyes. “Of course it’ll be the hottest news around, for like, decades.”

“Hmm.” Regardless of her churning emotions, a smile touched Sakura’s face. “Dating… well, it does go beyond that term in the conventional sense.” She bowed her head with her smile, and Ino’s curious silence prodded her to continue as they walked. “I told you, didn’t I? We’re moving into the compound, and after that I think he…” Sakura swallowed. “I think we will be… repopulating it.” Her core stirred with the images that rose to mind - a household full of black and pink heads of hair, bright mixed eyes of green and black. Though it brought her a flush of deep warmth, it also twisted her gut with anxiety. Ino squeezed her side gently, staring at Sakura. “‘Repopulating it’? So you’re really going through with that, huh?”

Sakura lowered her head from the sky and fixed Ino with a calm look, a twist about her lips. “Yes.”

“Damn.”

“I mean, we already have a kid together,” Sakura added, her cheeks darkening, and Ino raised her eyebrows. “Having a kid by accident is one thing. Making more on purpose is entirely another.”

Sakura looked down at her boots, kicking the leaves out of their path as they walked. Her insecurity made Ino sigh. “Sakura. Look at me.”

She did, a glimmer of her anxiety remaining in her gaze, and Ino gave her a half-wry smile. “Stop worrying about everything so much. Look at it objectively.” She gestured at Sakura’s small house that had now come into their view in the distance. “You’ve got not only a kickass daughter and a good life already, but now you have this…” Ino grinned. “...This apparently dedicated, stupidly powerful and much-too-hot man-mountain in your life too.”

Sakura stared at her with a slack jaw for a moment before she laughed, her hand on her stomach as she stopped in the street with her chortling. Ino smiled triumphantly. “See? Just reframe your perspective a little.”

“I’ll tell him you said all that,” Sakura chuckled, and Ino gasped. “No. You wouldn’t dare. He’s too frightening.”

“What was that about reframing your perspective? He’s not scary.” Sakura raised a brow at Ino, who folded her arms with an annoyance. “Idiot, he _is_ scary. All that hair makes him look like some savage wildling, and then he’s got that godlike-level of chakra… To think he was strong enough to pull the world’s most powerful genjutsu on us all even after fighting off Naruto, Sasuke, all five Kage, _and_ all of Gai-sensei's opened gates? No, the ‘Grim Reaper’ is pretty terrifying,” Ino confirmed, and she rolled her eyes at Sakura’s frown. “ _And_ he’s got that smug look those Uchihas have too, where they’re just all tall and dark and imposing. He barely held back from smiting us with that Susanoo this week as well. You really like dancing with danger, don’t you, Forehead?”

With a shake of her head, Sakura reached out and patted her shoulder. “Maybe it’s just me, then, but he doesn’t frighten me.”

“That’s why you have me to remind you why it’s hard for everyone to accept that he’s… sticking around.” Ino sighed as Sakura spoke with an apologetic expression, reaching out and resting a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry if I upset you, Ino-chan. You really did help me tonight, and you’ve helped keep my head afloat… This week has been hard enough since… you know. Thank you.” She pulled Ino into a hug and smiled as she pulled back, and there were tears glistening again in Sakura’s eyes; Ino shook her head. “All right, go on and be with your… Wait, what is he exactly? Fiance?”

Sakura gasped at the word, pressing her hands to her mouth in a comical O. “Ino!”

“What? I was just asking. Don’t tell me you guys haven’t defined whatever you have?”

“I mean… not exactly…”

“Yet you’ve already decided to move in and make more Uchihas…?”

“Pig, I swear---”

“You should probably figure that out.” Ino waved Sakura off with a chuckle as she turned to leave, and Sakura stared after her a moment before she speed-walked toward the little house that awaited her.

“So you and the First Hokage were best friends?” Sakura heard Sarada squeak, and she held perfectly still outside as she listened to what her daughter was saying through the front door. “That’s crazy. I can understand being best friends and enemies at the same time. It sounds kind of like me and Boruto-kun sometimes…”

Sakura smiled slightly, pressing her hand to her chest as she heard Madara reply. “Hashirama Senju was an idiot and a hero in his own kind. It’s a shame you can’t meet him.” There was a clink of cups on the counter and a shuffling of plates. “Though I have plenty of stories from over the years.”

“What was it like, knowing him well? Why weren’t you the Hokage, didn’t you both create Konoha?”

“Yes, I named this village, actually.” There was the sound of running water and the creak of the sink handle. “Hn. Hashirama being Hokage instead of me helped set our enmity in motion; his brother began the alienation of my -- well, our clan. But that’s not a story for tonight.”

There was a short pause before Sarada answered in a bright tone. “You know, _I’m_ going to be Hokage someday. It’s my dream.”

“I am sure you will be.” The sink faucet squeaked as it was turned off, and she heard Sarada humming as the slight sound of pages turning tickled Sakura’s ears.

Sakura closed her eyes and leaned back against the side of the house. She knew she shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but to hear her daughter finally get over her terror of Madara and have a conversation with him was warming her heart in ways she didn’t know she could still feel. His earlier words -- _our clan_ \-- reverberated pleasantly through her being.

She turned then, taking a breath as she opened the front door and stepped into the warmth of her house. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she pressed the door shut behind her back and approached the lit kitchen. She stopped where she was to stare at the scene before her. Madara in his dark wide-collared shirt and pants, barefoot, finishing drying the dishes; Sarada in her pajamas, reading a book on the couch, her focused dark eyes flicking down the pages. They both turned to look at Sakura and she gave a dazzling smile to Madara before she walked over and knelt by Sarada. “What are you up to?”

“Just some reading for class,” she answered, a small smile on her face. “It’s history, and I’m learning some stuff from Madara-sama.”

Sakura raised a playful eyebrow over at Madara. “You know, since his return recently, there’s already been talks about a revised history textbook for the school. They have to rewrite some of the parts with him in it.”

“I know, I told him that already,” Sarada said with a yawn, rubbing one of her eyes. Sakura reached over and plucked the book from her daughter’s fingers and set it on the coffee table. “Go sleep,” she said, gesturing with a tilt of her chin toward the stairs, and Sarada yawned again as she got to her feet and padded sleepily across the living room, waving shyly at Madara before she went upstairs.

Sakura bent her head with closed eyes, memorizing the moments she had just experienced.

Then she got to her feet, facing Madara. He was drying his hands on one of her hand towels - a pink one - and the image of the tall, shaggy-haired Madara doing something so domestic as _dishes_ made Sakura cover her lips with a laugh. He shot a glare at her, dark eyes narrowed under his shock of black hair, and she grinned beneath her hand. “When’s the last time you had to do something so…”

“So domestic?” Madara rolled his eyes as he left the kitchen and leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “Keep teasing me and I’ll never do the dishes again.”

“We’ll see about that.” Sakura sidled up to him, her hands pressing into his shirt. She slipped her arms around Madara and before she thought about it had wrapped herself around him in a tight hug. She buried her face in his chest and gave a deep sigh as she breathed in his smoky bonfire scent. The traces of her familiar dish soap made her smile, though her brows were furrowed where she was pressed into his shirt.

“Rough day?” he asked quietly, his arms tight around her back.

“Impossible day,” Sakura answered, and cursed silently at the tears threatening her eyes again; she focused on the feel of another warm heartbeat against her body, listened to the sounds of his breathing, and reminded herself that she was home safe now. Her anxiety began to ease, and it dissipated at the feeling of his breath in her hair.

She remembered Kakashi and the tears threatened her again; she spoke before they fell. “I did get some help for rebuilding your old home, though, in the compound.” She sighed into his chest before she pulled back, a weary smile on her face. Madara’s eyes were narrowed and he had an expression of curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I suppose you don’t know him. My… friend is close to one of the Leaf captains, who can use wood-style.” She blinked as she further remembered that wood-style was not only exceedingly rare but also unique to the First Hokage; she watched confusion and more invested curiosity flick through his dark eyes. “So there’s more than one Senju still around? That’s interesting.”

“Well, no, he’s not a Senju. He can just use wood-style.” Sakura bit her lip. “It’s a long story, but the point is that thanks to my friend, he’ll agree to rebuild and fix those buildings for us. And the Naka temple.”

“And who is this friend of yours?” She blinked at Madara’s rumbling tone and she sighed. “My old sensei. You know, the one you stole an eye from.”

“Oh. The Hatake boy.” Madara _hmmph_ ed as Sakura remembered Kakashi’s words, blinking away how odd it was to hear someone like Kakashi referenced merely as a ‘boy’. _Do you think that he’d let you have a close male friend_? She searched his face as she spoke. “Yeah, we’re pretty close, what with all we went through. He’s a bit protective of me, and he uh… It’ll be a long road to getting him to approve of you being with me.” _If he ever does,_ she added silently.

Madara’s eyes glinted dangerously. “You make it sound like this will be a significant problem.”

“I’d like for you to at least try to get along with him. He’s my friend,” Sakura insisted, giving him a stern look, “which isn’t up for debate.”

“Wasn’t he Obito’s old teammate?” Madara looked thoughtful before his eyes darkened. “Ah.” He glanced away, and Sakura caught his jaw with a hand, turning his face gently back toward her. The question about regret had made its return to her gaze, and Madara’s dark brows drew together. “Don’t ask me about that now,” he said, turning from her and toward the stairs.

“Hey,” Sakura called softly, and he paused at the stairs, his dark mane shifting as he looked back at her with an unreadable expression. “Thank you for talking with Sarada.” She followed him up the stairs. “It… it feels strange to say aloud, but thank you.”

“It’s not as if we had a deep conversation,” Madara commented as they moved up the stairs and down the hall. “Mostly small talk.”

“You two having any conversation is significant,” Sakura argued as they entered the master bedroom; she shut the door quietly behind them. “She’s getting less afraid of you. I heard her telling you about her dreams to become Hokage.”

Madara shrugged. “She did, and I’m sure she will get there. She is an Uchiha, after all.” He gave Sakura a grin. “My first descendant has every right to take power, and over more than just Konohagakure.”

“‘First’,” Sakura echoed, a small smile on her lips as she watched Madara toss aside his shirt and fall back onto the mattress. He cracked open an eye at her. “Hmm?”

Sakura pulled her vest and shorts off, smirking at how his eye dilated as she flung her clothes aside, leaving her in her sports bra and underwear as she flicked off the light switch and crawled into the bed beside him. She rested her head on the spray of black hair beneath her where Madara’s mane blanketed the pillows and watched him with a serious look in her eye. “Ino asked me today what we are, exactly.”

“Hn.” Madara watched her, dark eyes unblinking. After her pause, his voice rumbled through her body where she was curled against his side. “And? What did you tell her?”

“I didn’t.” She glanced down his chest, suddenly shy. “We never defined… anything.”

She didn’t expect the laugh that shook the bed, one hand lifting to cover his face as Madara chuckled. “Oh… Sakura.” He shook his head and the thick hair beneath her shifted; Sakura’s face burned, and she shoved him gently. “What? Why are you laughing at me? Look, she was poking fun at me for planning on more ‘descendants’ with you and I didn’t want to just make up an answer.”

At her statement Madara stilled and then stared at her. Sakura’s blush deepened and she turned her face into his black mane, hiding her face as her words hung in the air. “I _assumed_ that’s what you wanted, you basically told me we’re heading the clan and going to --- oh _kami_ I’ve messed this whole conversation up and I’m just going to stop talking.” She wanted to drown in the surprisingly silky yet still coarse black hair that surrounded her, and she willed sleep to take her away, but the tension between her and Madara beside her was too great for her to sleep. She waited with hunched shoulders for him to speak.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Madara rumbled then, one hand reaching over and pulling her closer to his side. She felt him press his nose into her hair and her shoulders began to slowly untense as he continued. “Relax, Sakura.” He chuckled quietly, and she huffed a sigh into his hair. “Perhaps that crossed my mind.”

Her blush burned, and she reached out, her hand falling along his neck. “ _Perhaps_ it did, you say, after practically proposing and agreeing to move in with me.”

“When you have a child together,” he said with sternness, “it’s the right thing to do.”

Sakura frowned as she pulled back and searched his face. “You’re only doing all this because we have a daughter?”

Madara pinched the bridge of his nose. “Woman--”

“Is that why you’ve done all this? Just because you finally have a descendant, and I just happen to be part of the equation?”

“Sakura---”

“Because if that’s the only reason you’re doing all this, I’m---”

“Sakura!” Madara took her by the shoulders and stared her squarely in the eyes. “Stop.” He pressed a hand to her lips, frowning at her. “Stop.”

There were tears welling up in her eyes, and he sighed through his nose. “No. Sarada’s existence is not the sole reason I’m moving forward with you. She is _one_ of them, true, but not the only.” He tipped his head back on the pillow, dark eyes moving to the ceiling, a twist about his mouth as he looked for the right way to express what he was thinking.

For all the word-smithing Madara had done in his past lifetimes to manipulate and intimidate others, he was of few words now, and Sakura found it oddly endearing that his usual verbal tact grew sparse when it came to what was between them. It twisted her heart in several directions to see the mildly embarrassed look in his dark eyes and very slight tint along his cheekbones as he stared up at the ceiling. It occurred to Sakura that she might be the first or only woman he had ever had this kind of talk with, and she felt patience calming her emotions as she relaxed her taut muscles, settling more comfortably next to him on the sheets. 

Madara turned his dark eyes to her then, a settled finality in his gaze. “Purpose, and meaning.” He exhaled quietly. “You have given me reasons to live beyond what I’ve known before.”

Sakura’s pupils widened as she took in his words, their infinite weight pulling through her mind and settling deep in her soul. Madara sat up on the bed, dark mane falling around her as he leaned in, casting them in a private shadow and blocking out the world around them as his hand lifted to her face; she searched his deadly-serious ebony eyes with parted lips as he spoke more softly. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Sakura’s green eyes glittered with her genuinity.

Madara closed his eyes briefly and then reopened them, his crimson Mangekyō Sharingans spinning slowly as he stared down at her. She felt his gloved hands rest gently around her sides, and she breathed in his smoky dark scents as she watched his black and red eyes spin. 

“Do you want to know me?”

The question was simple, but it sent cascading splinters of her own questions through her mind as Sakura processed what he was asking. She frowned up at Madara. “Of course…”

His burning red eyes blinked slowly. “You never did experience the Infinite Tsukuyomi.” He lifted a gloved hand, enveloping the side of her face with it; Sakura inhaled as she realized what he was proposing, and her gaze widened. Madara watched her consider it for a moment before she smiled up at him, tipping her face against his hand. “I told you I trust you. I just… I want to be able to come back to you… here, and now.”

“Hmm.” He bent his head, touching his forehead to hers; for a long moment they both simply breathed, Sakura’s heart pounding in her chest as she readied herself.

Her hands reached out, running up his chest and curling around his shoulders. She steadied herself with her hold on him as she exhaled slowly and met his eyes again, her face set with her focus.

When he saw the anxiety that Sakura tried to hide behind her gaze, Madara smiled warmly down at her. “I’ll make sure you are able to return to me.” He bent closer, his lips brushing against the side of her cheekbone. “Wouldn’t want to postpone our plans for more _descendants._ ”

Her cheeks burned, and her apprehension was gone when he fixed his Sharingan gaze on hers again. Sakura smiled up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m ready.” Madara’s gloved hands steadied her as he focused, and she was lost as her mind was thrown into the darkness beyond his scarlet eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1/8/2021: Still on hiatus. I am feeling a little lost with this piece TBH. I intend to rewrite chunks of it upon my return from hiatus and rework it before I add new updates. I am sorry to those who were wanting new updates soon -- I feel like I need to rethink this work a bit before I add new content. Worry not, I'm not abandoning it, but I'm taking some time away/rewatching all of Naruto so I can come back with a better perspective. Thank you for your patience all.
> 
> Note 3/3/21: The above note is still true, so it remains. I am feeling like I need to thoroughly rework "A Living Secret" before I post new chapters. I feel like I need to have a more thorough understanding of all the characters involved, and am knee-deep in bingeing the entire show for this reason. However, I don't consider this work to be abandoned, just in need of changes. If you have any suggestions or criticisms, please comment and I will consider the feedback. Anything is appreciated. <3 Either way, thank you all for your kudos/comments/subscriptions/bookmarks; every single one is a joy and inspiration to me to keep going with this and in general. Expect updates/reworks/new chapters in the next few months as my life calms down and I have time to write again.


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